


Wunschbrunnen

by hellhoundsprey



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: 'verse' is short for 'versatile' which means the character both bottoms AND tops in this fic, Alpha Jared Padalecki, Alpha Jensen Ackles, Alpha/Alpha, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Barebacking, Exhibitionism, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Masks, Porn with Feelings, Sex Toys, Sex Worker Jared Padalecki, Sexual Roleplay, Soulmates, verse jared padalecki, verse jensen ackles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:47:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26265994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellhoundsprey/pseuds/hellhoundsprey
Summary: Original prompt: Jared shares a place with Jensen and they are both Alpha. Jared works as a "sexcam" where he masturbates and all that to his viewers (he only does "top-related" things though) and he always wait until Jensen is out. One day Jensen gets home earlier and sees Jared at work. Jared doesn't mind that Jensen is watching and as a result starts to "work" even more often not caring if Jensen is home or not. The viewers think that Jensen is Jared's omega which prompts Jared to start joking about it messing around with Jensen, until Dean/Jensen has enough of it and falls for the bait, ending up "working" with Jared in one session to show the viewers that he is indeed an Alpha. The thing is, being an exhibitionist that he didn't know he was, Jensen starts to like showing himself to the viewers and whats more, loves being manhandled by Jared and following Jared's orders.
Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Comments: 66
Kudos: 190





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt has been tweaked here and there, as per usual. Check the tags to see if this one’s fun for you. 
> 
> This is an ongoing love child project of mine with a lot of happy healthy consensual alpha/alpha sex and two idiots falling in love. There _is_ a tiny bit of angst due to Jensen being an overthinking Pisces but the Happy Ending tag is for real. I promise.
> 
> Wunschbrunnen—[ˈvʊnʃˌbʁʊnən], german for: wishing fountain

They used to go on those spring break trips together, back in college. Weren’t sharing a dorm room but somehow made one king per three guys work, Jared in the middle because he said he didn’t mind, but warned that he was a sweater, big time. Since they all fell into bed blackout-drunk and lathered in sand and sweat and sunscreen anyway, Jensen didn’t mind either.

Just waking up big-spooned around Jared and with a killer headache, not knowing where he was—those were the days. They all remember these trips fondly, but Jensen knows Jared and him wouldn’t be as tight as they are now without those crazy days.

Life is kinda boring, now, but at least they have each other.

Was supposed to be a just a couple of months kinda thing, but they’re three years in and neither of them shows any signs of wanting to change. Rent control helps justifying the three-bedroom apartment with the decent transport connections—people usually get weirded out about the Ackles-Padalecki arrangement, so the two alphas…well, you can’t exactly keep it a secret with the scents mixing and all, but they don’t tell you unless you ask, nicely, and have proven that you won’t be jerk about it.

Melissa didn’t make it long. Jensen didn’t like her anyway.

And while Jared vowed and nodded and _yeah, told you it’s okay, I ain’t too mad_ , Jensen still knows they broke up because of him, no matter how you look at it. Looked like a good pair; they did some couple stuff with Jensen and Joe and later with Jensen and Fiona and those were always fun activities, never boring or anything and Melissa _was_ great, was smart and fun and hot but Jensen overheard her bitching about Jensen, about _the reek_ of him on everything in this goddamn place and Jared would say, “Well, _yeah_? It’s his place too, you know?” and she didn’t like that, not at all.

Omegas are so…possessive.

Not that alphas aren’t, but they’re—not so weird about it. It’s simpler, easier. A confidence thing, probably. Jensen prefers beta partners who won’t threaten to fucking slit your throat if you end up, well, _ending_ things. He’s a traditional alpha like that, changing partners, spreading his…y’know. Not that he has kids (RE: betas) but he likes to switch it up. People get boring so easily.

Jared would tease, “You’re so high maintenance,” and Jensen would shrug, style his hair and shave with laser-focus. Jared’s not into dating that much. Picks up at bars here and there, at parties if he bothers to join the team. Prefers busying himself with his video games, with his workouts and his nieces and nephews; smiles up at Jensen and pauses his game so Jensen can show himself off, get the approval his ego can desperately use before a first drink.

He spreads his arms away from himself. “Acceptable?”

Jared tells him, “Perfect,” with his fingers pinched, throwing a kiss.

“Ass.” Jensen slips his jacket on; it’s not too cold out but the cute 8 off knotr might appreciate some white-knighting. “Prolly gon’ be late—I’ve got my keys so go ahead and lock up when you hit the bed.”

“Sure.”

“Have fun with your…” Jensen gestures towards the screen. “Minecraft.”

Jared does that laugh for whenever Jensen does something he deems entirely adorable. Begins educating Jensen about how this is obviously something else, Jen, you absolute pleb, but Jensen’s already out the door then, grinning stupid because, man, he really likes his life on nights like this.

Unbound, free. Just a few steps and he’s outside, out in the streets, surrounded by their lively little quarter and he smoothes his jacket down, checks his phone again, and begins walking.

~

There are things he is used to about how people tend to treat him.

Like, forgetting they have control over their faces.

Omegas getting a little wet, that sugary melon kinda whiff that surrounds them when they do, when they shake his hand and Jensen smiles, polite. He meets many people in his job and the agency is not mad about his looks helping things along.

He’s used to people squirming and holding themselves together so desperately, trying not to give away how enthralled they are with Jensen’s exterior, his cultured way of speaking, his sparkling personality and all that blahblahblah people just expect of you, but.

Flaking out on him, that’s…fairly uncommon.

Has happened before, of course; nobody’s immune to that kinda shit nowadays, but…yeah. Jensen stares into his second lonely drink and tries not to let it get to him. He’s been waiting for thirty minutes; they don’t reply to his texts. They’re not gonna show up.

Jensen orders another. Contemplates browsing through his booty call choices, but he’s just bummed. He’s sorta okay with people telling him to his face how they’re so surprised he didn’t catfish them, but he wouldn’t have arranged a date if he hadn’t felt like it would be—worth it.

Jensen sighs, downs his drink. Pays, tips. The mood is ruined. Better call it a night.

There’s music and lights all the way down the street no matter what hour. Jared and him always liked that—the vibrancy, the fun of it all. A dozen amazing food places within walking distance, their favorite bar. Jensen just wants a pity-scoop of that Ben and Jerry’s he’s hid from his bud (far behind the tons and tons of frozen chicken meal prep in their freezer), followed by his bed.

Jared’s a heavy sleeper but it’s still early, so Jensen makes a point of getting his keys out quietly, unlocking the door quietly.

He’s already toeing out of his shoes while he steps inside so he doesn’t see, at first, just hears, “Woah,” and realizes the light’s still on, that Jared’s still up and on the couch, and.

Oh.

“Hey, I.”

Jared swiftly grabs the nearest pillow to cover his very (very) exposed crotch with. Shoots his other towards the surprisingly decent cam he’s propped up next to his laptop, and Jensen gets the shortest view of some sort of video chat screen on their huge-ass TV before Jared turns that off, too.

“I was, uhm—fuck.”

Jensen’s stomach turns—from seeing his friend so embarrassed, from the heavy scent of Jared’s cock in the air. Jensen mumbles, “Crack a fucking window, man,” and makes haste to get his jacket off, beeline for his room. “You better fucking wash that fucking pillow!”

And so Jensen bangs his door closed, presses up against it from inside. Just stares at the ground, in shock, and hears Jared’s sorry little movements. Him, gathering his shit. Hears the faint little click of Jared’s bedroom door closing, too, and Jensen’s kinda sick and the ice cream doesn’t feel as enticing anymore, at all.

Mumbled, “Fuck,” and he rubs at his face. Cringes for the scent creeping in on him, crawling into his room from the little gap underneath the door. The mental image—and yeah sure they’ve seen each other naked before, it just happens, close quarters and all, but this just now was—that was. Something else.

In bed, Jensen scrolls through the convo of him and the person he was supposed to take out tonight. Ignores the timid notification of Jared, texting him (“u up?”) and huffs, frustrated, before he puts his phone away, rolls to his side to sleep.

~

Jensen wakes to the scent of cooking bacon and—coffee.

He rises. Zombie.

He tells his roommate, “You’re such a wife,” but lets the alpha hand him his favorite mug, curls both hands around Darth Vader’s face and takes the first heavenly sip with his eyes closed and a groan deep in his belly.

Finds Jared, fiddling with the spatula, puppy eyes fully engaged.

“Can, uhm. Can we talk?”

~

Jensen blurts, “What?” and Jared cringes, does that helpless little smile that pulls his dimples all weird, all fake. “Excuse me, _how_ much?”

Jared assures, “It’s not that big of a deal,” and Jensen feels so utterly stupid. Things make sense, suddenly, how Jared can afford his body and his lifestyle and only working part time. “Others make, like—I’m not that good, really.”

Jensen’s clutching his now-empty cup like a lifeline. “Just for jerking off?”

“I mean, I do other stuff, too,” and Jared looks embarrassed and maybe Jensen’s the only person who knows this about him. The only one he opened up to about this, and only because he _had_ to. Is all flushed and sweat-sour, nervous.

Deadpan, “Like what?”

Jared’s brow ticks, confused. “Uhm, you sure you want me to tell you?”

“I, uhm. Good point.”

“I mean, I don’t mind? Just, I don’t wanna make you, like, uncomfortable or anything. This is weird,” and Jared laughs in that painful kinda way that drives the weirdest sort of anger into Jensen’s blood. “This is so weird, sorry.”

“Do they, like, tell you what to do?”

“Sometimes.”

“Hm.” Jensen nods, still confused, still not fully awake despite it all. With all the new information clouding his brain, searching for clues, for how to handle this kinda stuff. Again, “Hm,” absolutely stumped.

“Does it weird you out?”

“Huh?”

“Like, does it weird you out, Jensen? That I’m doing this?”

“Like, uhm. Maybe not in our living room, y’know?”

“Totally, yeah.” Jared nods excessively. His hair bounces in-synch; he tugs it back behind his ear. “Yeah, I, usually I set up in my room, just, when you’re out, the living room is uhm, a nice change, I guess. But, totally. Can do. Sorry.”

Jensen observes, “You are honestly mortified, aren’t you,” and Jared flushes deeper, gives a curt nod.

“Like, uhm. You weren’t supposed to know.” Quiet, small. Like the alpha’s not six feet four and two-fifty pounds. Like that young lanky pup again who Jensen got to know back in school, unsure and not a lot of confidence (and all of it fake).

“Dude,” decides Jensen, “people do way dirtier shit for that kinda money, y’know,” and Jared cracks half a smile for that, then, and an honest one nevertheless.

~

The topic hovers on Jensen’s thoughts like a raincloud. A semi-constant of too many questions he doesn’t feel are appropriate to ask. He doesn’t want to embarrass Jared. If he wants to talk, he’ll talk. Then again, friends probably don’t wanna share this level of details.

Jensen’s never been in a position where he’d have had to pay for sex. Would join for strip clubs if the occasion arose, sure, get a lap dance because why not, but? Porn, that’s something free you can get off the internet, easily.

What kinda people would _pay_ to watch Jared? What’s the thrill? Jensen wants to understand, he does.

Jared’s a handsome guy, sure. Tall and lean and his hair is just offensive; usually tied up in the summer and he hangs out in athleisure most of the time, nothing too fancy. Throws on a loose tee and thrashed jeans when he heads for the office twice a week, yeah, but Jensen’s not exactly seen him as someone…like that.

Which is offensive, because of course sex work is just work, and Jensen doesn’t ‘identify’ with his editorial position either. Makes sense that Jared doesn’t have to embody sheer and utter obscenity just because he does that kinda work.

Camming. Showing himself off from a distance, to strangers. Strangers he’ll probably never meet, never get to see, but they’ve seen _him_. Getting himself off and other things. That huge fucking question mark of OTHER THINGS, and Jensen’s drifting off about that, and he stops himself, forcefully, every time.

Jared’s washed the pillow, the entire couch. He’s thorough like that. When they sit on it together, sometimes Jensen’s mind goes _there_ —to what other things Jared might have done on here without his knowledge. What he could do on here that would be worth watching—paying for.

Five drinks. Five drinks are a respectable amount.

“So, is it always just you?” and Jared laughs, “Huh?” and he’s tipsy, too, obviously; flushed and the lights dance pretty around them, a flutter and too-fast, too-much, and Jared’s sweats like this is a sauna.

“I mean, on camera.”

“Oh,” says Jared, and his smile is gone for the moment he realizes, and it slides right back in. Jared’s always such a happy drunk. “Oh, you mean, do I fuck for money?”

Jensen thinks _no_ but says, “Yeah.”

Jared confides, “I don’t,” and gestures towards the barkeep for more as he throws back his current shot. “That’d get too complicated,” he muses, all talkative and loose like this is them talking about their office. “With, like, sharing the earnings, and, like, emotionally, I guess.”

“But you get offers, right?” and Jared gives him a deep look, then.

Shifts his attitude just-so, like he does when they tease each other, when they fuck around and say stupid shit they don’t mean, stuff that doesn’t matter except for making each other laugh, having fun.

Jared tells him, “Sure,” and clinks his new glass against Jensen’s old one.

Jensen nips without interest, both elbows on the bar top. He pushes his glasses back up the sweat-slippery bridge of his nose and hums, thinking, pondering.

“I use, like—toys, y’know.”

“Toys?” Jensen feels fucking light-headed. Feels like he’s blinking too much, up at Jared, both seated but Jared’s taller, always. “Like, fleshlights?”

“Yeah, like fleshlights, Jensen,” and Jared’s grinning again, aware that he’s got Jensen hooked and that he’s got the upper hand in this, somehow, and too giddy about the latter to question that WHY, exactly. “Like, people gift that stuff to me. It’s a whole thing.”

“Wow.”

“But I buy a lot myself, just to keep some variety, y’know.”

“Just, like, alpha stuff?” and Jensen feels hot the second it leaves his mouth, but he can’t stop it, it’s out there, and Jared grins at him like he’s _waited_ for him to drift into those particular waters.

Jared plays with his shot glass. Tips and circles it, and it’s so so tiny in comparison.

Carefully lowers his voice to tell Jensen, “You ever see the shit they sell for omegas? Dude, it’s fucking fantastic,” and leans in a little, sheepish but obviously willing to share in the middle of this crowded bar—with Jensen, who truly has to hold back from leaning in, too, curling in and keeping this private between just the two of them. “The fake cocks and shit? The inflating stuff? Brilliant. I could do nothing but that and make like, triple of what I get now.”

“You—wow.” Jensen’s running out of words. “Wow, you—really? You _do_ that?”

Jared beams, “Sure, it’s fun,” and switches from shots to beer. Better, probably, with how deep in he already is.

“Doesn’t it, like…” Hurt? Turn you off?

Jared grins over the rim of his pitcher. Sips, pointedly, and shakes his head without further words.

Finally adds, “It’s fucking amazing,” and, so carefree, “You never tried it, or? Dude, you _should_!” Laughs, loudly, and slaps his hand onto Jensen’s curled-in shoulder. “I can help you pick; you’re gonna come so hard you’re gonna black OUT!”

Jensen hiss-warns, “Jared!” but Jared just laughs, blasts, “What!” and is just generally unashamed.

So easy about everything, so different from Jensen. Controlling in other ways, exactly how Jensen never could.

They’re drunk; it’s a Friday. Must be a Friday, always them on Fridays, no dates and no work and Jensen’s all warm, inside-out.

Hotter, outside, later; back home, upon Jared pulling him in by his arm, telling him, “Here,” and yanking the huge drawer open for Jensen to inspect its insides.

Jensen says, “Jesus,” and wants to run, turns back towards the door but Jared laughs, tugs him back. “Jesus, Jay, you—those’re _used_ , man; this is fucking weird.”

Laughed, “You don’t have to touch ’em, silly,” and Jensen dares a peek; sees pinks and purples and rainbows of colors.

Jared’s still got his arm clutched in his hand.

“These’re so fun,” explains Jared, and Jensen keeps his eyes strictly on Jared’s fingers, how they pick up a vibe, egg-shaped and smooth-looking and Jensen’s stomach turns. How easy Jared handles the toy; how he spins it in his grip, slides it into his palm. “You really never?”

“Not, like, full-on. No.”

“They fingered you?” and Jensen just nods, dumb, quick. Can feel Jared smiling at him, though, looking straight at him. “You liked it?”

Jensen remembers, “Not really,” and puts his beer to his mouth just to have an excuse.

“Then they did a fuck-poor job. Idiots.”

Jensen insists, “Not everyone likes it,” and he gently punches Jared’s shoulder as the alpha holds out a particularly impressive silicone dong out between them. “You’re such a jerk. Fuck you.”

Jared discards the toy back to the others, shoves the drawer closed, and Jensen deflates with relief. “If you ever wanna try something, just lemme know. I get a discount.”

“’Course you do.”

“Sure. Got you covered, brother,” and Jared pats Jensen’s back, firm and huge and warm, and Jensen fastens his grip on his drink, just because.

~

They’ve always been close. Sharing an apartment and all that, partners staying over and all that. But Jensen’s never truly—been aware. Of the fragments of Jared’s scent, what each of them means. Always just this huge—thing. Amalgamation. Branded: Jared P. Warm and thick and alpha-sharp, keeps you on your toes, keeps a tension you can’t quite…shake.

Rivalry, of course; alpha and alpha. Bigger, faster, stronger; but Jared’s made it clear early on that he doesn’t want to fight, that he doesn’t want to bring Jensen down or anything. Ambiguous when it comes to dominance, would give in to Jensen if they ever argued, if there ever was a rare occasion of an argument even _forming_.

So compatible. Their scents, too. At least that’s what it feels like, to Jensen—others, they…they don’t get it.

Their home feels like a home because it smells like it does, because it’s both of them. Jared’s old cabinet they keep the TV on, the TV Jensen bought a week into them living here and drunkenly crashing the old one. Jensen’s mom’s plates, Jared’s little sister’s handmade soup bowls.

Jensen navigates his laptop one-handed, headphones in, door locked. He’s always been careful about this stuff; it’s important in their setting.

He huffs, licks his lip. Skips from clip to clip, but the omegas are too squirmy, the alphas too off-putting. Jensen’s not into that violent kind of shit, no matter how hard the porn industry encourages him to.

He growls, deep down; impatient.

Tugs at his balls, kneads them tight.

Frowns, pissed, and finally gets over himself.

Alpha on alpha, okay. Okay, whatever.

More disappointment, more violence. Forced knottings and Jensen’s guts clench up sick, and he murmurs, “Fuck,” and tugs on his cock to keep it up, keep it going.

He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t.

Jared said that’s the lowest of the low—people stealing his content, uploading it somewhere else. Sure, he’s got his active audience, his patrons, but shit like this ruins cammers, and it’s a real problem.

Jensen feels the ugly surge of shame zipping up his spine as he types in the stage name Jared’s shared with him and hits enter.

Three clips.

HUGE ALPHA TEASING OUT MASSIVE LOAD /W HELLO KITTY MAGIC WAND [HOT] [ALPHA COCK] [KNOT SLUT]

Jensen left-clicks.

~

Jensen tells himself that it’s easy. That it’s no big deal. That he can just be open and ask, because why not, and if they’re not into it they can just say so and they can move on like nothing’s even happened. Because nothing did, duh.

Turns out it’s not easy, and that it _is_ a big deal. For Jensen, at least.

Good Texan Christian boy, all alpha, all that crap. Religious shame and that weird one-time thing of hurried fingers in the dark, them being clearly caught-up in the moment and backing off as soon as Jensen tensed, and that was the end of _that_. Alphas don’t like that kinda shit. Alphas take what they want, and a good knot is all that matters.

Jensen’s made them dinner. Post-workout Jared is always showered, loose and dopey with endorphins and he shovels food into his mouth like there’s no tomorrow, like he’s fucking far from meeting his calorie goals for the day (which is probably true). Potato-muffled, “You all right?” and Jensen just hums, pushes his lackluster salmon around on his plate.

Jared notes, “You look constipated,” and Jensen growls, “Fuck off.”

Jared scoffs, just a little pissed, just a little cocky. “Someone needs to knot, huh.”

Jensen snaps, “Can you—” and slams his fist down on the table. “Can you—SHUT your fucking mouth?! For ONE second?”

“Hey, fuck you,” and Jared’s up on his feet with his plate in his hands faster than Jensen can feel a morsel of regret. “Take your moods out on someone else, I’m not your fucking _bitch_.”

Jensen grinds his knuckles into his mouth, shakes with anger. Hears Jared vanishing into his room, the door falling shut but no lock comes on after, and of course, because why would he, what else does he have to hide from Jensen, anyway?

Jensen tidies up the kitchen, loads the dishwasher. Taps his fingers on the counter, absently, and huffs. Murmurs, “Shit,” and wipes at his face, his mouth.

A rut coming on, maybe, but he’s stuck. Stuck with this—fantasy shit, with that idea of a kind of sex he’s never had, never wanted, until now. If he’d hook up, get freaky like he’s used to—it wouldn’t do it. He knows. He just knows.

Jared doesn’t answer to him knocking. And Jensen hesitates because _duh_ but does end up sneaking inside. Finds Jared, headphones on, in his gaming chair, playing some kind of MMORPG.

Jared doesn’t notice him until he’s right next to him, startles a little and straightens from how low he was sprawled in his chair. Murmurs, “Hey,” and tugs his headphones halfway off, keeps his hand on the mouse but tilts his attention up and to Jensen for a short, “What’s up?” before he focuses back on the game.

“What’re you playing?”

Jared jokes, “ _Not_ Minecraft,” and shifts his eyes back to Jensen for just a moment, but Jensen notes it, and he appreciates it. “You calmed down yet?”

“You tell me. How do I smell?”

“Like my grandma.” Jared oompfs but chuckles for the shoulder punch. Smiles up at Jensen, though, all generous.

Jensen mirrors that. “Can you pause that real quick? I need to ask you something.”

“Can’t pause in a raid, idiot,” but nevertheless, Jared brings an arm out to curl around Jensen’s hips, tug him closer, and it might just be a joke but Jensen warms stupid for it. Careless, “What do you need, babe,” and it’s very clearly a bit and Jensen can hear other people in voice chat over Jared’s headphone, and his mouth opens to speak and he’s put his hand in the back of Jared’s neck without thinking, blind instinct, and Jared fucking _tenses_ underneath him, really looks up at him with, like, wonder and shock and Jensen, he, he can’t say it. He can’t.

Can’t take his hand off Jared, either. “I, uhm—private, please?”

He hears the guys in chat hollering, hears them whooping before Jared cuts the connection, truly lets go of the mouse then and listens, whole-body, like he always does when you ask him to, and Jensen stutters because it’s too much.

“I, uhm.”

“Got that the first time. What do you need?”

“That—don’t,” and finally he manages to pick up his hand from Jared’s body, turns in Jared’s arm but there’s nowhere to go, so he pushes at said arm instead. Jared won’t budge. Irritated, huffed: “C-can you…?”

Jared lets him free. Somehow, that’s worse.

“Which one do you want?”

“Huh? What?”

“Which _toy_ , Jensen,” and Jensen flushes deep, all the way down to his fucking taint, probably, and Jared just looks at him like he’s about to roll his eyes like a fucking bitch.

Jared sighs through the hesitant silence of Jensen Ross A.

“For the back, or the front? Small, or—”

“For the, fuck, for the—the _front_ , Jesus, you’re such a fucking _prick_.”

Deadpan, “Uh-huh,” and Jared rolls himself and his chair over to the dresser, shoves his hand into that infamous top drawer to rummage through.

Jensen holds his hands out without thinking but balks at the chosen object.

Jared educates, “It vibrates,” like that helps with anything, like this isn’t just some plain-ass fucking cock ring, and Jensen fumes further because if Jared isn’t doing this on purpose right now, he’s just absolutely— “Look, you wanna pick one yourself? Be my guest, man, I’m kinda busy here.”

Jensen is left behind; Jared tugs his headphones back on and rolls back in front of his PC, his keyboard and mouse and Jensen is confronted with a sea of…well, it’s just…it’s a lot.

He stands there, stupid, with his blood confidently rushing south, and Jared must smell it. Can smell it, no doubt, because Jensen smells him tensing, smells him slightly nervous and a little pissed but mainly, just, still _warm_ , comforting, and Jensen reaches into the drawer without breathing.

Shoves the thing back closed, sheepishly, and tells Jared, “Thanks, man,” but Jared can’t hear him, doesn’t react, and so Jensen retreats to the judgement-free realm of his own room.

~

All of Jensen’s hopes culminate to Hopefully He’s Got So Many He Can’t Tell Which One’s Missing. It’s a futile, naïve thing, but beggars can’t be choosers.

It’s a late Saturday afternoon, so Jared’s probably not camming; not with Jensen in the apartment. Is quiet, though, so Jensen takes his chances. And, yeah, he’s lost in his game again. Weeks (plural) later so maybe, hopefully, he’s forgotten that he’s been borrowing something to Jensen at all.

Jensen sneaks to the dresser, but the heavy drawer makes a noise when he pulls it open, of course, and he murmurs, “Fuck,” but Jared doesn’t flinch, keeps chattering with his buds, and so Jensen finishes the job and starts his retreat.

Almost got the doorknob in his hand again when Jared pipes up, “You liked it?”

Jensen freezes. Sweats.

“Pretty small. You even feel anything?”

Jensen tries, “Small for _you_ , maybe,” and Jared laughs then, deep and affectionate, and Jensen dares to look back at him, to throw him a smug smile.

Jared beckons him over, and Jensen doesn’t even know why he complies.

Just teases, “Are those unicorns?” while Jared wrings his massive arm around him again, tight around Jensen’s hips and tugging him against his tit, the dramatically low arm hole of his tank top.

Jared warns, “You little shit,” but grins, and Jensen smiles too and puts his hand on top of—the chair’s neck rest, this time. Grips it tight just like Jared holds him tight; keeps his other hand stemmed into his waist. “Watch; we’re kicking this thing’s ass.”

“Adorable.”

“Hey, this is hard!”

“Sure,” mocks Jensen, and he scoffs. He couldn’t be any less interested in video games. He never understood what Jared likes about them so much.

Jensen’s eyes swoop over the screen; the little chat box in-game, the notification window in the top left corner of the screen.

The camera set-up just behind the desk, and the tiny, blinking red light.

He jolts, but Jared keeps him caught.

Jensen wants to say—something. Anything.

“You think I do anything for free?” Jared grins up at him, nods his chin towards the screen. “I get paid for this shit. You wanna say hi?”

Jensen just gawps, unbelieving. That Jared would do this to him. Pull him into this—stuff—without even telling him.

Maybe last time, too, then…?

Oh, fuck.

Jared coos, “Don’t be mad, I’m sorry,” because he probably smells the whiplash-change in Jensen’s scent, but he’s still got him squeezed in his arm and Jensen pushes at that again, now, like last time, but Jared won’t let up.

Just looks up at him with that dopey, smug little smirk of his and his tits nearly completely out, his basketball shorts and hairy, huge thighs, and, just.

“Let go of me, asshole,” and Jared does, then, and Jensen nearly stumbles and falls backwards with how hard he’s been pushing himself off of the guy.

Jared just repeats, “Sorry,” with his hands raised in defeat, his expression unchanged, and, Jensen’s gotta get out of here.

He hears Jared laugh, hears him chatting with his audience, after. Can’t understand the words per se but just the constant, easy flow of Jared’s voice, and that’s bad in itself. Crawls into him, like someone repeatedly clicking their pen, nerve-wrecking and toenail-curling and Jensen flees the apartment, flees the house, just to escape—this.

Checks in on Jason, has a drink with him. Declines the offer to head out with them, no he’s not in the mood but thanks, another time, and, God, he doesn’t even know. Doesn’t know how to handle all this. If he’s even supposed to.

He has to crawl back home eventually. Quietly, like an invader or something, because surely Jared’s working by now. Ten PM. Many people are home at that time, their spouses asleep, maybe. Jensen doesn’t know about the demographic of Jared’s audience, but he has his ideas.

More beer to calm his nerves, and that helps. Soothes him but he gets hot from it, too, loose and dizzy and he scrolls through his contacts again, like so many nights before. Not in his bed though but out in the kitchen, and if Jared came out for like a snack or something, he’d find Jensen and ask what Jensen is doing, so Jensen could come up with something smug and great like oh just wondering which hoe is gonna get this knot tonight, and he just, Jesus.

Jesus, this is bad.

It’s so bad.

Jensen gives a desperate look over at the door to Jared’s room.

Can smell him, just to make things worse. Can smell that he’s hard and probably working himself in some kind of way because God he smells ripe, he smells like something wet that Jensen’s not supposed to find hot.

Jensen’s phone is still showing his contacts, but it buzzes in his numb fingers because there’s a new text, and Jensen clenches with pain when he reads Jared’s name, when the little preview of the message is enough to show all of it because Jared’s good at summing things up, boiling things down to what truly matters.

big jay said: join me?

Jensen wishes he’d had more than just a few fucking beers.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday!

Jared’s room is tinted in reds and purples. Fancy lighting shit and Jensen hesitates with the door _already gaping open_ _because he opened it_ , because he’s almost in there. His eyes water from the heavy scent in the air, with the deep bass of the music Jared’s playing over his sound system.

Careful, “Hey,” and even Jared’s _voice_ sounds fucking thick.

Jensen lets himself in. Closes the door behind himself but stays pressed up against it, frozen in fear and his own stupid mental limitations.

Jared’s voice and scent tell him to, “C’mere,” so Jensen does—slowly. Like he doesn’t even know how to walk anymore.

As soon as he’s within reach—and Jared’s in his gaming chair again, but wears nothing but that crappy little necklace he brought home from their last vacation and his eyes are heavy, lidded, pupils all blown—Jensen stumbles forward with how imperatively the alpha yanks at him.

Useless, “There you are,” and that’s probably just for the non-existent script of this whatever-this-is but it’s also so so fucking true, just them. Jensen doesn’t know what the audience knows about him, if Jared ever talks about private stuff; is probably smart enough not to ever go into details or anything. Curls his arm right back to where it belongs, around Jensen’s hip but he keeps it loose this time so Jensen could easily push off if he wanted ( _if_ he wanted).

A peek at the screen confirms that Jensen’s head is not being recorded right now, not with how close he stands to the camera; you can see just the beginning of his chest but the rest is cut off. Fortunately, with the fucking ski mask on, Jared can’t see how fucking red his face is right now.

Jared doe-eyes up at him, all broad and alpha but so so smooth, with his ridiculously huge cock wet and hard in his left hand and the lube he uses smells like genuine O slick, and that doesn’t help Jensen in any fucking way.

Jared mocks, “Can I help you, sweet thing?” and Jared’s hand carefully (very carefully) moves up and around to brush along the curve of Jensen’s ass.

Jensen discovers a new level of goosebumps.

Like—it shakes him to his core.

He _has_ to grab at something, _has_ to dig his fingers somewhere or he’s gonna come out of his skin—finds the back of Jared’s neck once more, and Jared half-blinks, chuckles, lets him.

Presses his hand down harder, really _cups_ one of Jensen’s cheeks.

Notes, unrelated, “Jesus fucking Christ, you’re hard.”

He is. By God, he is.

Feels it stiffening further until it truly bumps into Jared’s shoulder, and Jared just chuckles again, squeezes his ass and rubs his fingers lower, deeper, finds the cleft of Jensen’s ass despite the sweatpants and boxers underneath and just digs them _in_ , like Jensen’s an O and Jared’s property, like Jared could do whatever he wanted right now.

Jensen’s vibrating he’s so hard.

“You’re so cute. You wanna play, huh?” and Jared tugs at his own cock with emphasis, draws Jensen’s sole attention away from his stupid face and towards _it_ , to the fucking girth and shine of it in the meticulous lighting situation. It looks dangerous, looks like a fucking weapon or something and Jensen’s brain uselessly reminds that he never saw another alpha erect, not in the flesh, and Jensen clenches so hard his _nuts_ hurt, and how could he not— _nod_?

Jared repeats, “So fucking cute,” and nudges his face into Jensen’s stomach, the softness of his sedentary-lifestyle-belly and washed-out tee, and Jensen flinches, helpless, caught, and that hand still feels him out, still maps out just how tight his ass really is and massages at his hole, just right up there, and Jensen can’t help but get his other hand into Jared’s hair, just to hold on.

Jared hums against Jensen’s navel, and Jensen thinks he feels him kissing him, there.

“Let’s see those tits, baby, yeah? You wanna show ’em to me?”

Jensen doesn’t, exactly, but the way Jared _says_ it…is converting him.

Didn’t even think of this because it’s just not _a thing_ for him. Jared helps him out of his tee and closes his mouth over one of Jensen’s nipples immediately like he’s been waiting for nothing but this for, like, ever, and Jensen gasps, caught off-guard, because, oh, holy, holy shit.

Jared hums so fucking pleased, so low and alpha and holds Jensen by the waist with both of his huge-ass hands while he suckles at him like a pup, like Jensen’s something delicious and beautiful. Jared’s eyes open, eventually, look straight up at Jensen and Jensen feels raw, feels fucking stripped bare and understood and—he’s gonna die.

Swallows another pitiful sound when Jared abandons the first to get to the other, formerly-neglected, and gets a fresh hold of Jared’s head, Jared’s hair.

Just in time for Jared to dig his teeth in, eyes still strictly locked with Jensen’s.

Jensen’s hips lurch fucking _forward_.

Reasonably-slurred, “You like that?” wondering, teasing, and he does it again, finds Jensen’s other nipple with his devil-fingers and pinches it mean like that, makes Jensen’s brain fire all wrong and hot and fuck he can feel his cock leaking against the inside of his underwear.

Whole-mouthed, full suck.

Jensen shudders with Jared releasing his tit with an obscene, wet pop.

Laps back over it in thick, wide strokes, and Jensen can’t do anything but let it happen.

Jared’s eyes leave him, then.

“What do you guys wanna see, huh? Let’s hear it.”

Jensen shudders, so Jared tugs him close, gets one hand back to knead at his ass, keep him occupied. His rock-hard cock throbs idly in his lap, ignored and fucking heavy with blood. Jensen’s mouth waters despite every reasonable instinct.

“’Fuck him’? Nah, c’mon, you can do better. Let him fuck me? I dunno,” Jared flirts back to Jensen’s face, “maybe another time.”

Jensen watches the chat, too, now. It’s busy; so many viewers. Donations keep trickling in, and Jared keeps rubbing at his hole like it’s no big deal.

Jared laughs. “‘Double dildo’? Very funny, Sash, very funny! They think you’re my omega,” and that last part is quiet, just for Jensen, and Jared looks guilty and bashful when he does, and Jensen’s brain and dick both don’t have a clue what to feel about _that_. “You guys won’t let me have _any_ fun, do you?”

Jensen’s eyes are wet in the wide holes of the mask, and he fervently follows the flow of messages and suggestions until he can’t, because Jared pulls him aside, makes him face Jared and present his back to the camera. When Jensen turns to look over his shoulder, the screen just shows—Jared. Jared, leaning forward next to the milky width of Jensen’s waist, one huge hand throning the small of his back and the other still tucked tight between his cheeks.

Jensen stumbles, rearranges. Jared gets one leg between Jensen’s so he can pull him as close as he can, with Jensen’s stomach up against the bulge of Jared’s shoulder.

Jared hums, feigns being all chill and dominant, but his palms are damp, and his scent—says it all.

He’s about as wrecked as Jensen is.

Rubs the stubble of his nine o clock shadow into Jensen’s chub and reads, “‘Suck his dick’, hm. Gappa, get the hell out, this is a respectable space.” Jared laughs again, deep _ha ha ha_ that makes him thrum whole-body, and he hisses, “Shit,” and turns to press a kiss to Jensen’s flank, digs his teeth in like a playing pup.

Questioning, big eyes, and Jensen has no idea how he looks himself. Stupid, with the mask on and all, probably.

Whispered, “You wanna suck me off?” and, “Y’don’t have to,” and Jared’s second hand dips into the back of Jensen’s underwear, and. Fuck, he’s gonna lose it.

Jensen swallows, and he nods.

Jared’s face lights up all foreign, like he’s relieved and excited and on drugs, and he smiles wide and asks, “Really? Yeah?” and he’s getting actual bare fingers against the pucker of Jensen’s asshole now, and Jensen nods wild because _please just let him_ , and Jared’s teeth sink into his bottom lip and he chortles, adorable and dumb and hot and he says, “All right, then,” but yanks Jensen’s pants down his ass, bares him to the camera and Jensen gulps, full and wet, and Jared kisses his stomach again.

Still rubs him dry and spreads his cheeks with his other hand, just gathers a handful and _tugs_ , and he leans forward to get his face back on screen and his voice rumbles, loud, and Jensen realizes he’s watching them. Watches himself palming Jensen open and naked and Jensen’s _mortified_ , and he clenches but Jared bulls his shoulder forward so Jensen has to fold in on himself to keep from falling. The view must be obscene, and Jensen gasps desperate breaths off-screen, hidden-away.

“Yeah, so fucking lucky, Yax, don’t I fucking know it,” and there’s honest fondness there, and Jensen cringes all wrong. “You guys wanna see him sucking my cock, huh? ’Cause that’s what’s gonna happen.”

Jensen’s world twists again, because Jared gets up and pushes him—down.

Two hands, one for each shoulder, and Jensen just thuds down like a sack of flour or something equally intelligent. Finds himself on his knees and eye to eye with Jared’s raw, wet cock, but he can’t not stare up, stare right up at Jared’s face how it looms and peers down. Jensen’s in full view now while Jared isn’t, but what’s important is right in the spotlight and Jensen gravitates in, forwards and _in_ and Jared wouldn’t have to get his hands on top of his head, wouldn’t _have_ to dig into the cotton of the mask and Jensen’s hair underneath but _he does_ , and Jensen’s still got his eyes turned up as he wraps his lips around the head of Jared’s cock. Just gets them on there and feels, god, he feels it all and his eyes tear up for real, and Jared whispers, “Holy fucking shit,” and it’s truly breathless, truly _believing_ , and Jensen, he.

He’s gonna lose it.

Jensen sucks his breath through his nose and that’s a mistake.

Sends his senses reeling, revolting, because what the fuck are you doing but he pushes on, blinks against the tears that weigh down his lashes and he sucks his cheeks in, once, stiffens his tongue to make it good. Jared growls for that, twists his hand in the mask and Jensen’s hands come up to Jared’s thighs, settle there and don’t push but he can’t keep still, can’t not use them in any way and Jared rolls his hips, then, testing and slow but he does, and Jensen flutters, whole-body.

Feels the air on his bare ass and god he didn’t even _think_ to pull his pants back up.

Arches his back, then, in a swift mood, with his brain all shut-off and without responsibility. Swears Jared notices because Jesus fuck those _eyes_ , and Jared’s not smiling anymore but just fascinated, not sure how to handle what is going on even though he probably should, should be in control and tell Jensen what to do because Jensen for sure shit has no fucking clue.

“Your fucking mouth, Jesus Christ.”

Jared steadies his head for him, pushes himself deep—bumps into the back of Jensen’s throat and Jensen flinches, caught, willing; flattens his tongue to let him further and Jared takes that invitation, oh, he truly does.

Murmurs, “Fuck, your little mouth, your pretty fucking little mouth, baby,” and it doesn’t matter if that’s not the real Jared, if this is just Jared, earning his money, because it does it for Jensen, too.

The pull-back is unsuspected and wet.

Leaves Jensen confused, gaping open, and he grunts in shock for Jared slapping the fucking heavy length of his cock down on his face—against his cheek, the tip of his nose.

“Fuck.” Decisive grab towards the desk. “Moving over to the bed now, c’mon.”

Half-tug, half-stumble. Basically, Jensen crawls on all fours.

Lets Jared pull and arrange him, watches him steadying the cam, the lights, the mic. The music thrums a little louder, he thinks, and finds Jared watching him closely even as he moves around, always pinning Jensen down with his eyes, keeping him small and threatened and Jensen’s so hard he might go blind from it.

“You guys fucking see that?”

Jensen doesn’t understand; lets Jared kick his legs apart without thinking.

“See how fucking wet he is for it?” and Jensen feels it, then, the huge wet spot in front of his sweatpants where his cock has been leaking into ever since he walked through this goddamn door. Jared points the camera directly at it, pans up at Jensen’s face, obscured and covered by the black thick mask except for the holes showing his mouth, his eyes.

Jensen’s gonna cry. On camera.

“Wet here, too, aren’t you,” not a question; Jared’s fingers into his mouth, two at once and pulling down, showing off the slick pink of his tongue for the audience. Jensen can’t look away from Jared’s face.

Always-kind, always-sweet Jared. Too nice for his own good, and here he is, a hundred percent alpha and just—big.

Huge and capable, Jensen sees that, now, understands that now, with the thick imperative throb of Jared’s cock so close to him.

Jared just says, “Let me in,” sets the camera onto the tripod and crowds in on Jensen whose one hand reaches up in instinct to press at Jared’s thigh. But Jared slaps that away, tells him, “No fucking hands,” and Jensen’s fucking stunned, stunned enough that he doesn’t question Jared simply burying himself anew, sliding right across his tongue and into the soft-clenched back of his throat _and then some_ , and he gags, unfamiliar with this and unpracticed and Jared pulls back, once, but gets a real grip on Jensen’s head while he does and truly forces in on the next move, and Jensen heaves, pinned, nowhere to go with the bed in his back and Jared in front and he lurches, but Jared’s got him.

Pulls back, and Jensen gags, but swallows back down.

Jared looks like he wants to ask _are you okay?_ but instead growls, “On the fucking bed, now,” and ends up doing most of the work himself.

Places Jensen on his back with Jensen’s head hanging off the foot end of it and Jensen realizes too late what this means, that he knows how Jared is about to use him, and he gulps for air just in time, just before Jared steadies his cock and feeds it back down his throat in one long, steady push.

“So fucking good.”

Jared’s mouth runs nasty while Jensen feels his nose blocking up with his own spit.

Keeps his hands off Jared, just like he’s been told, but Jared pushes at his arms nevertheless, never seems to be pleased with how and where Jensen tries to hold on and it’ll make sense to Jensen, after, because of course there’s the cam and he’s getting in the way of the clear view, but he’s not functioning to that extent right now, nuh-uh.

Jensen’s throat is just one long line for Jared to fuck into and even though he sets a decent pace rather soon, Jensen can tell he’s _holding back_. That this is nothing, that he’s not even going hard on him, and he swallow-clenches in utter devotion for it.

Leaks into his pants some more and comes off the bed he arches so deep; has his arms tucked underneath his ass just to keep them out of the way, to weigh them down.

“Taking it so well,” croons Jared, porn-Jared, alpha-Jared; holds his balls out of the way to show off how deep he can rut into Jensen’s mouth, and Jensen can imagine how swollen his lips are at this point; obscene and pink-red and he groans, muffled and deep, trapped and hollow, wonderful.

A break; Jensen coughs his lungs out, gurgles ugly but Jared praises, “Fuck yeah,” and Jensen whimpers, because shit he’s sore, he’s sore and Jared’s probably not even close. Watches him jerking himself in this weird upside-down view and latches on to one of Jared’s balls while Jared keeps talking shit and entertaining the crowd, just moves right in there and Jared groans like he’s been shot, so Jensen truly cranes his neck, truly takes care of them.

“Fuck, fuck, you fucking little slut,” and Jensen beams with it, thrums with it.

Lets go of Jared’s balls with a wet pop and Jared pulling himself back from his mouth and fuck Jensen’s done for, he’s so fucking ruined and slimed up in his own spit and Jared’s precome, and he just coughs some more, pitiful and hoarse and Jared settles in to pump inside his throat again, just steady, long beats of it that have Jensen heaving in no time whatsoever.

Jared warns, “Fuck, I’m coming,” and Jensen splutters because oh fuck he can feel it, can feel Jared’s knot inflating and bumping up against the seal of his stretched-to-hell lips and then it hits him, unprepared, into the back of someplace too-deep down his throat and he gags, wet, painfully, and Jared groans exaggerated and loud and pulls out, strokes himself while he does to keep his orgasm going, clutches the too-fat swell of his knot to cheat his body into more and it truly works—slops rope after rope of come into Jensen’s shiver-wide mouth and across his lips, the mask; into his nose. Jensen splutters, unsure what to do but lie there and not suffocate on fucking alpha come, and Jared accidentally hits his eye then and that shit burns, and he squeezes those shut and groans, hurt and turned the fuck on, and if Jared as much as laid a single finger on him right now, he’d blow right along with him.

But Jared doesn’t, wisely, cruelly. Eventually comes down on one arm (Jensen feels the mattress dipping accordingly) and catches his breath, keeps wringing his cock out and dribbles the last copious amounts across Jensen’s chest, rubs the sore crown of it along Jensen’s skin and Jensen shivers, patiently. Jared’s breath barreling over his stomach is almost enough to do him in, almost.

“How’s that, huh?” and Jensen realizes Jared’s talking to his viewers again, broken and low and fuck he’s so hot, so huge and strong and snarls, “That what you wanted, huh?” and Jensen thinks yes, yes, oh, _fuck_ , absolutely.

~

Breakfast is. Awkward.

Jared eventually dares, “Did you sleep okay?” and Jensen just nods into his eggs and wishes he actually would have choked last night.

Jared confronts him, later, with nowhere else to go.

Calls him, “Jen,” soft and massive and he’s been to the gym already, of course, as always, and Jensen should burn the sweatpants that now/still stink up his laundry but they are his _favorites_ , and he’s _stupid_. “We should, uhm. Talk.”

Jensen agrees, “Should,” and feels pale.

“So.” Jared clears his throat.

Jensen waits. But there’s nothing.

Jared just looks at him, practically begging Jensen to take over. But Jensen’s frozen and mute and that’s not gonna change anytime soon.

Finally, desperate: “We still cool?”

Jensen tells him, “Yeah?” and the relief in his best bud is immediate, even if stunted. “I mean, if you’re okay, I’m okay.”

Helpless, clueless, “Should I venmo your share, or?” and Jensen’s suddenly breaking, suddenly wants to scream at Jared and punch Jared’s face but he boils all that down to, “Really, Jared?” with enough weight that it bends Jared right in half. Has him sinking in on himself, small and unsure and Jensen wants to beat him up, he does.

“Really? _Money_? That’s what you wanna talk about right now?!”

Again, “Jen,” like he’s begging, like this is important, like Jared can’t say it out loud, either.

Jensen can’t tell if he’s the one kissing Jared, or if it’s Jared who pulls _him_ in.

Just, uhm—teeth. Lips. Close-mouthed because they’re idiots, and this is too big.

Jensen curls his arms around the alpha, around that tree stump of a neck and Jared makes a heartbreak-sound and smells like it, too, and gathers Jensen’s frail waist in his own steel-grip, Jensen’s ass in the other, half an accident.

It just works out like that for a few beats. Until they shift again and Jensen needs to catch some oxygen and Jared truly hurls him up against the closest wall like he weighs fucking nothing, like Jensen’s a lightweight.

Jensen can tell that they both now feel equally stupid for sleeping in separate beds last night.

“Can I—fuck, Jen, is this—?”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” and that’s that, that’s all Jensen can and will say.

Jared doesn’t, though. Roams his huge-ass hands and squeezes Jensen everywhere and babbles, “Jen,” and, “Fuck,” and doesn’t _ask_ if he may yank Jensen’s pants down to his knees, but does.

Gawps like he didn’t even mean to, like Jensen’s something forbidden and Jensen remembers that he _is_ , actually, and he wants to say that it’s okay, yeah, fuck, please, but he can’t, he just can’t lie easy like that.

Jared licks into his mouth, then.

Just slips it in there and Jensen goes positively liquid, head-to-toe. Sucks back at Jared’s—his best friend’s—tongue and Jared’s truly just rubbing bare at him again, angles one finger in and Jensen whines, deep and scared, but Jared just kisses him through it, and, somehow, it works.

Jensen can feel Jared pumping his finger in to the first knuckle, the second; no lube or anything and it’s bad, it burns and it’s too much and Jared tells him, “Holy shit,” and yeah, Jensen knows, he fucking knows.

Jared maneuvers them over to the couch. Spits into his hand, grinds his finger back inside.

Jensen is just one on-fire line.

Tries to yank Jared’s shirt over his head and murmurs, “Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop,” and Jared helps, has to get his finger out and that hurts but he’s finally topless, finally available to Jensen to touch him right, too, and Jensen’s scratching his fingers up into Jared’s neck and his hairline and he yelps for Jared stretching him out on two, now, and he beckpedals, “Okay, maybe stop, maybe, like, wait, if we—”

Jared holds him down with one hand on Jensen’s shoulder, the sheer force behind his measured, calm kiss. Pumps his fingers slow to ease them out without hurting Jensen too much, and Jensen just blurts, “Holy shit,” and he hurts, a lot, in too many places at once.

Jared crawls atop of him, straddles him. Rocks them together and just kisses, lets Jensen mess up his hair.

They’ve settled, eventually. Jared lets his head drop into the crook of Jensen’s neck to hide here.

Jensen breathes, deep and steady, through his nose. Feels his face still flaring pink, the burning tips of his ears. Smells both their cocks, raging hard. They’re old enough to allow these things to pass without needing to jump into action. Tucked up against each other, though, that’s nearly impossible.

Jared sighs, high and muffled.

“Fuck. Want you so bad right now.”

Jensen scoffs, hums. “You’re heavy.”

“Did I fuck it up? Us?”

“What? Dude, shut up.”

“Did I?” and Jared raises for that, truly collects himself to frown right into Jensen’s face, his hair all disheveled and his mouth raw from Jensen’s stubble, and Jensen can’t think of anything but kissing him again, but he doesn’t.

Grants the idiot a, “No, man,” and gathers at least _some_ of that mane to fold it back behind Jared’s ear. “No, you’re just—being a big dumb baby right now.”

“I like that. _Baby_.”

“Being a big dumb baby?”

“No—you, calling me that.”

Jensen considers, “I dunno, that’s kinda kinky, don’t you think?” and Jared kisses him quiet, then.

Kissing, kissing.

Jared smells like his shampoo, like Jensen’s spit. Spice and tanginess, prickling and electric and he murmurs, “Can I, Jen? You gon’ let me?” and Jensen nods, without thinking, and swears he can feel Jared’s instincts roaring with it.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Joking, “You wanna stream it, or?” but Jared’s eyes pop dinnerplate-big for that, and Jensen, he—freezes.

Jared considers, carefully: “I mean…if…? If you…?”

“I’ll cry,” says Jensen, dry. “You’re gonna make me cry, live, on the internet, Jared.”

Jared frowns anew. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Oh, Jesus.

Oh, holy mother of Jesus.

He can’t. He shouldn’t.

People always say he’s the more reasonable one. That out of the three brain cells Jared and him share between them on a good day, he usually gets two and a half.

The world is wrong. _He_ is. _They_ are. Everyone.

Barely anyone’s online. Jared mails his regulars, updates his social media. It’s still early. One PM or something; like Jensen even cares.

Jared’s room gets the morning light, so the blinds don’t have much to keep out at this point, but the strips of light still look cute. Jensen watches himself pawing his ass on-screen while Jared’s still setting shit up.

Catches him doing it, eventually, and slaps at his ass.

“Stop that. Wait for me.”

Jensen just sprawls out more slutty. Can see the chat, now, with the laptop set up right by the bed, and chuckles, low.

“What they say?”

“Think they figured out I’m not an O.”

“Ah.”

Jared bends down to hold his face into the camera.

“Y’all are cute, so I’ll forgive you staring at him _way_ too fucking closely.”

Jensen laughs. It’s pretty fucking obvious in the daylight with his body hair and all, he thinks. The lack of tits despite his nowhere near Jared’s body fat percentage, the size of his balls.

Finally, Jared curls up behind him, kisses him on the mouth, one hand straight on Jensen’s ass.

“Hey, you.”

“Hey, idiot.”

Jared smiles, kisses him again. Licks into his mouth, show-off, wet. Jensen sighs, one arm behind his head, the other just angled out in front of him, out of the shot.

Jared’s hand kneads at him, spreads him for the camera he set up at an angle that shows Jensen’s ass with how he’s laid out on the side, tilted so their faces and upper bodies are visible, too. Jared roams his fingers into the crease of Jensen’s ass while he hums around Jensen’s tongue, possessive and big, and angles Jensen’s face nice. Jensen doesn’t remember the ski mask being this fucking scratchy and warm.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” airy and against Jensen’s mouth, and he shudders for that. For Jared being such a sap despite his like ten inches of cock tapping into the curve of Jensen’s spine, rubbing at him like he’s practicing what he’s gonna do once they’ve worked him inside; if they even _manage_ that.

Jensen’s not…he’s just not sure he’s _built_ for that.

Louder, “Sweet thing,” loud, smacking kisses. Jensen doesn’t expect the bandana Jared folds over his eyes, ties behind his head, but maybe that’s, actually, for the best. So he’s not gonna fully sob on camera, covered up just a little more. An illusion of privacy, of this just being about him and Jared.

“Baby, you gonna let me play with this little pussy, yeah? You gonna?” and oh, Jesus, yeah, that, the, bandana was a, yeah. Yup.

Jared gathers some slick from God knows where and the room smells like O now; that same lube he had used on himself last night, Jensen realizes, but Jared smears it into his gash instead.

Keeps nursing at Jensen’s mouth and keeps flirting loud enough for the mic to pick it up, “So small. You think my fingers are even gonna fit?” and Jensen swallows because, no, kinda not, but Jared slips one in anyway, has him stuffed full easily.

It’s. It’s insane.

Weird, and tight, and it aches.

Fucking amazing on the pull-out, and Jared praises, “There you go,” and sucks on Jensen’s lip, and, yeah, maybe he can do this.

“You guys see how fucking tight he is? Can’t even wriggle my finger right.”

Jared makes a point by attempting exactly that—buried to the knuckle and Jensen tenses as he moves, crooks his finger and Jensen shudders, deep, mumbles, “Holy shit,” and Jared promises, “Yeah, we’re gonna work on that,” against Jensen’s hidden-away ear, bites at the cotton-covered shell of it hard enough for Jensen to feel it despite the barrier.

Compared to the toy, this, this is…a lot.

Not in his control and Jensen realizes that’s probably it, that’s all this is about, isn’t it, and as if Jared could hear him think he tells him, “Relax,” while he keeps rummaging through Jensen’s guts like it’s no big deal, like he can’t tell exactly how nervous Jensen is right now.

Jared attempts to push another finger into him and succeeds. Not without a bunch of pressure but Jared croons, “There you go,” and pulls at him, and Jensen’s spellbound.

No wonder Jared didn’t consider the toy a challenge when two of his goddamn fingers exceed its fucking _width_.

Jensen’s never thought of himself as a small guy. But Jared dwarves even him, easily. Kisses at Jensen’s shoulder to keep his mouth occupied and Jensen would be much more chill if he wasn’t so aware of the flush of his body bleeding into his chest, no-mask-territory.

Again, “Babe, relax,” and Jensen can feel him trying to scissor his fingers apart. Can feel Jared smiling; that airy little gasp of his amazement, his excitement. “You’re crushing my fingers; c’mon.”

Jensen tries. Arches his back further like he’s seen plenty of omegas do it, but his body doesn’t work that way—wasn’t built for presenting and getting wet and receiving a knot and, “Lemme try something, all right?” and then Jared scoots down, and _down_ , and, Jensen, he’s, he’s not gonna—

Jensen Ross slaps a hand over his mouth. Doesn’t know what to feel, what to think, and Jared laps at him again, then, long and wet and careful and he pulls his fingers out entirely, then, to rub them up Jensen’s taint, fondle his balls instead.

Licks flat across his hole, now, and Jensen can’t.

Gentle, “Is this okay?” and he does it again, and Jensen still clamps his mouth shut because oh Lord, he better.

Jensen feels him peeling his cock from between his thighs—how he bends it backwards to feel out the veined underside of it; the loose skin where Jensen’s knot is gonna form eventually. Jensen feels it throbbing, once, for the attention. How it blurts more precome, now probably perfectly visible, up against the back of his thighs.

Jared hums right into his ass and Jensen gasps. For the low vibration that’s usually reserved for Os, for other people, not him.

“You guys see everything? We good?”

Jared attempts to detach himself, check the camera feed. So Jensen gets a hand into Jared’s hair and nudges him until he’s back, and Jared chuckles sweet, goes right back to Frenching Jensen’s ass.

“Tell ’em how it feels.”

Jensen groans. “Like. I’m melting.” His voice feels off—sounds off. Unsteady and rough. He can’t let go of Jared’s hair. “Like you’re…like my dick’s turned inside out or sum. So good.”

Jared questions, “You think you can come like that?” and Jensen thinks _no_ just before Jared slips two fingers back into his ass, easier now but he clenches right up around them, grunts, but Jared eases an equally tight ring of middle finger and thumb around his bent-backwards cock, and, that’s, uhm.

“Yeah?” Shit, he’s gonna cry at last. “Fuck, what’re you doing?”

Jared laughs. “Just tryin’ to make this good. You good?”

“Yeah, I,” corkscrew of Jared’s monster-fingers; gulped breath, “Y-yeah, that, I…!”

“Come on, then.”

Not a threat, not impatient. Just—beckoning. Teasing.

Jensen huffs with a shiver. Feels Jared kissing at his ass, sinking his teeth into the swell of it.

Jensen bites back a whine, but Jared notices. Does it again, harder, and Jensen mutters, “Shit,” up against his own palm.

Jared’s sucking a love bite into his ass cheek while he pumps his fingers into him with the most angelic patience, while he chokes Jensen’s cock just underneath the head, and Jensen makes another noise, alpha and warning despite it all, with him being stretched taut, right on the edge.

Jared’s adoring, “Fuck,” because, yeah, Jensen can feel it. “Fuck, there you go, come on.”

The pleasure is—off-kilter, wrong. His knot swells without much pressure on his cock at all, with the slick-aching burn of Jared fingering his ass; and he scents Jared’s arousal, how it spikes immediately and the low rumble of his voice. No words, just pure biology working his vocal cords, primal and dangerous and Jensen’s ass clenches without his consent, but Jared just keeps working it nevertheless, keeps working against that weird pressure, and.

Jensen doesn’t know how he doesn’t come off the bed. How his body can just lie there and work his orgasm out for him—chokes on his breath for Jared switching his hand to grab him right below his knot, wrings him so hard and perfect and grunts more porn-shit, but Jensen can’t exactly hear any of it.

Just jolts, shivers, while he slicks the back of his thighs, the bed. While his insides milk at Jared’s unrelenting fingers, suck back at them so wet and tender and the first solid thought is oh shit he’s gonna be so fucking sore isn’t he, and he can’t wait, he _can’t_.

Jared hiss-laughs, “Shit,” and releases his vice-grip, pumps his hand along the entire length of Jensen’s oversensitive cock instead; and Jensen flinches, attempts to squirm away but Jared’s stronger, of course he is.

Blankets him, crawls back up so they’re face to face and he can kiss him. Gets his fingers out but keeps working Jensen’s cock, upside-down and wrong and Jensen truly whines then, tries to kick his leg but Jared’s got him, he does.

“So sensitive,” a sweetness, a discovery. Jared’s smiling against Jensen’s mouth. “Fucking beautiful, you know that?”

“Jesus, let—stop it, man, I’m…!”

The relief-regret of Jared obeying to his will is immediate. Still clenches, all over, too-deep.

Jensen complains, “You broke me,” and Jared just laughs.


	3. Chapter 3

“I wouldn’t,” vows Jared. “Not on screen. Not something serious like that.”

Jensen nods, embarrassed.

“Why?” Jared’s brow rises. “You thought we’d…?”

Jensen claims that, “No,” but Jared’s already figured him out, wide-eyed and boyish like he can be, and he leans in like he is about to crawl right back into Jensen’s lap.

“You thought I’d—you thought I’d just go ahead and fuck you? On camera?”

“I did NOT,” but the height of his voice probably says it all. “I _didn’t_ , shut up!”

“Do you want that?”

“What?!”

“Me, fucking you,” and Jared looks genuinely amazed, genuinely _surprised_ , and Jensen feels that more rotten with it. That more desperate.

He shifts; was so comfy in his clothes after the shower until just literally now. “I—I don’t, uhm. I don’t know. Yeah?” and if Jared had just a glimpse of disapproval in him, Jensen would find it. But there’s nothing.

Just this tall man-baby, the full-grown alpha earning money with showing off his cock to the entire internet, and he looks like a pup again, vulnerable and soft and he inquires,

“Seriously?”

so Jensen has to repeat, “Yeah,” with less room for interpretation. Adds, for good measure, “I mean, if that’s cool with you,” and fumbles with the empty bowl of cereal in his lap.

They’re on the couch and Jared had put on some game theory bullshit just to piss Jensen off, just to make conversing with _him_ more attractive. That’s how he is, how they both are.

Jared just nods. “Absolutely.”

And Jensen tells him, “Great. Okay.”

The part where this transitions into them making out violently gets…lost on Jensen.

They should talk. Talk about—this, everything about it, but Jensen wouldn’t even fucking know where to start, and somehow, it still…works out. Like it just fits, like nothing truly huge between them has changed.

And it’s nice; this. Warm and cozy and they are clean again but Jared smells like Jensen, like his pheromones, and Jensen still hasn’t succeeded in washing last night’s history from his scent either.

Groaned, “Fuck, I’m gonna smell like your dick all week,” and Jared grumbles a reproach to that, something without words, as he tosses Jensen’s shorts across the room.

Inquires, “That wasn’t the plan?” and dips back down to kiss him, gets one of his huge hands around both of their cocks. Jensen rocks his hips up as Jared’s rocks his own down, and it’s perfect. So easy.

Jensen gets his arms around Jared’s neck. Keeps kissing while Jared works them rough, rougher than they’d need. Just to make a point.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous. Even your dick. S’not fucking fair…”

Jensen orders, “Shut up,” so Jared settles with bowing his head so he can watch the combined mess of both of their cocks struggling through the tight circle of his fist. Jensen had gotten the guy off in the shower, after (aka like twenty minutes ago), but they’re equally wet again, equally straining for it again.

“Fuck. You’ve got me so fucked up.”

Jensen laughs, “I’m not _doing_ anything,” and Jared complains,

“Yeah, and that’s even worse.”

“You think it’ll work, though?”

“What?”

“This, up my ass?” and Jensen folds his hand over where Jared’s working them and he’s not sure which part has Jared making _that_ sound but God, he’ll have to figure it out, because he needs it again. “You think we can work it out?”

“We’ve gotta,” decides Jared. “We’ll _have_ to.”

Jared’s free hand worms between them to rub right back over Jensen’s asshole, where he couldn’t take his hands off in the shower, either. Moves his fingers like there’s still some lube left, like if he just pushes the right buttons, Jensen will get slick for him despite all biological sense.

Jensen shifts his hips for better availability.

“Wanna take my time. Work you open on every-fucking-thing. You can fuck me, first, if you want, just so you—I mean, if—”

Jensen pants, “Yeah,” immediately. “All of it, whatever you—!”

“Shit.” Jared looks positively tortured. Or like he’s about to nut. Both. “Shit, how are we this messed up? How did we miss out on all this for so fucking long?”

“Are you gonna get your fingers in there or do I have to fucking _ask_?”

“Shit,” again. Delirious chuckle, and Jared’s hair falls into his face as he looks down, sits back. “Shit, you’re the best. The worst.”

Jensen warns, “Watch your mouth,” but their bit becomes secondary as soon as Jared’s mouthful of spit lands just shy of Jensen’s asshole and gets fingered inside within the blink of an eye. Tucked away safe, and Jensen would say something, anything, but Jared’s sinking two right in to the knuckle and so all he gets out is, “Holy shit,” and Jared embarrasses him with the loud, wet sound he fingers out of him. All easy, all practiced.

Jensen needs a hot minute. Doesn’t get it.

Backwards grip on his cock; Jared smiles down at him, sits back on his haunches. “You were saying?”

“Fuck you.”

“Working on it.”

More squelching; Jensen lets his head truly flop back into the cushions. “Fuck…”

“You wanna try one of the toys? Or just my hand for now?”

Jensen chuckles from underneath his thrown-across-his-face arm. “Thought you wanna save the toy stuff for your audience.”

“Not when it’s about you I don’t.”

“Romantic.”

“Sue me.” Jared rubs his fingers deep and up, and Jensen’s balls pull a little tighter for that. “Can’t take my time with you if we do this on stream. Can’t figure you out like I want with them watching. People don’t pay for that kinda vanilla stuff. They just want this—” Jared pumps his fingers in while he swivels the other over the drip-wet head of Jensen’s cock “—and this—” and he digs his fingers up, right into that sore, swollen spot of Jensen’s prostate and Jensen moans, off-guard and sweet, and Jared’s smile tips a little for it “—and, yeah, I get them, but I wanna do this right.”

“Fuck…”

“I wanna make you feel safe and I wanna make it good for you, and—”

“Jared?”

“Yeah?”

“Less talking, more…!” Jensen gestures between his legs.

Jared’s mouth curls. “Bossy.”

“You love it,” and the word is out before Jensen can think better of it, but maybe Jared doesn’t put too much weight on it anyway because he just leans down, keeps up his efforts while he kisses Jensen’s mouth again. Laps into him deep and pleased and when Jensen tries to get a hold of his cock for him, Jared’s arm nudges him away.

“Tell me what to do. Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

Jensen cringes. Manages, “Lube?” and Jared nods.

Kisses him again before he asks, “More? Here?” and pulses his deep-tucked hand and Jensen nods, stupid, liquid.

Jared is blessedly quick. Returns with a condom and one of the toys that’s larger than the one Jensen had borrowed, yet still…tame. Omega-sized and about as much as you’d think your typical alpha ass could deal with.

Jared’s cock swings heavy between his legs, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Keeps himself on edge for hours, after all, when he cams. Jensen can’t imagine.

“Tell me when it gets too much, all right?”

Jensen warns, “Jared,” and gets what he wants.

Has Jared rucking him up by the hips until his ass is in the air; gets his cock slicked up, too. Slips his eyes closed while Jared eases the latex’ed and lubed toy into him, slow and steady, while he slides his loose hand up-down on his cock.

“Fuck…”

“Too much?”

“Keep fucking going…”

“All of it?”

Jensen peeps through one squinted eye. “Uh, how much…?” and doesn’t expect it to nudge that…deep. Clenches around it, whispered, “Fuck,” and Jared, the ass, chuckles.

“You good?”

Jensen lies, “Yeah,” and feels on fire. Like the world has narrowed down and he can’t zoom back out, can’t escape this—pressure? Pleasure?

“You want me to fuck you with this?” and Jensen nods all gooey, one hand reaching for the closest of Jared’s forearms and the other still near his head, out of the way. And Jared, bless him, does as he’s told. Moves his arm, finally, even though it’s merely a shallow, testing rhythm. The push-pull is—a lot. Amazing.

Jensen encourages, “So good,” and is rewarded with more, slightly faster, slightly steadier.

“Still so tight. I can tell,” offers Jared, and twists the toy clockwise to rub Jensen out, to show him what exactly he means.

Stupid, brain-fogged, “Maybe just get the tip in? Later?” and Jared chuckles like Jensen’s something adorable, something young.

“’M not gonna be able to stop at just the fucking tip, Jensen.”

“S’okay, just wrench it up there.” A deep noise for that. “You wanna? Do it.”

Jared insists, “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” but Jensen can tell how hot he is for it, and maybe not this time, okay, but…!

“Okay, whatever—keep going, please?”

“You’re talking like an O,” notes Jared, clearly amused and lost, and his arm works hard, and he rubs his thumb into the bundle of nerves just underneath the head of Jensen’s cock—before he lets go of it completely.

Jensen joins in on watching it twitch on top of his belly, confused, abandoned—eyes up at Jared, and he opens his mouth to complain but Jared flirts his hand lower, thumbs hard into the bulge of Jensen’s taint and keeps it there.

Jensen’s mouth opens wider.

“You wanna come like one, too?”

“I’m.” He’s never. “Is, can alphas even…?”

“Not without practice.” The toy keeps pumping into Jensen’s ass. Without the added distraction of his cock getting played with, it’s—weird? Painful again? “Might take days. Weeks.”

Weeks, plural?

Jensen’s eyes get a little wet with the prospects.

“We’d have to wean you off of coming from getting your dick taken care of. Just plain ignore it, play with nothing but your ass a lot. Retrain your body into accepting that that’s the only way it’s gonna get an outlet.”

Jensen chokes, “Fuck,” and feels his cock throbbing so, so hard for the sheer thought. Feels his ass clenching in anticipation, blind and hungry.

Jared continues, “We could lock it up. So you can’t even get hard. So all you get is—this.”

Jared deepens the angle and massages his thumb counter-rhythmic, keeps constant pressure on Jensen’s prostate; milks out another fat glob of precome from his straining cock and Jensen can’t speak, can only sweat and watch.

“Fuck. You’d like that, wouldn’t you,” and there is no question, just pure, simple understanding, and Jensen whines, helpless, and he doesn’t even know if that’s what he actually wants, but the way Jared says it, it’s…!

“D-do you…? Can…?”

“Should fit you, yeah,” and Jensen truly crumbles, hides back behind his arm. “Want me to go get it? Right now?” and Jensen’s never been this red in the face, never nodded this enthusiastically.

Jared exclaims, “Shit,” and fucks Jensen good. “Shit, look at you. So fucking perfect, being so fucking good. We’ll put it on after I eat your ass some more, okay?” and Jensen hiccups his shame, but also his consent.

What Jared said isn’t entirely true: first, he gets Jensen all fucked-up on that goddamn toy. Until even a stuck-up idiot like Jensen lets loose, until even Jensen can tell that the drag eases, that the slide gets easier.

Only then does Jared let up on him. Only to make him position himself face-down, ass-up and lick-kiss into his ass until Jensen’s lost pretty much all understanding of who that Jensen-person even is. Until his cock feels like he’d blow any second, never quite getting there; his knot on the verge of popping but the stimulus is wrong, just won’t do.

Jared begins stroking himself at some point, and that makes it so much worse. The wet, full slaps of his hand on his surely dream-wet cock while he slurps at the soft-open mouth of Jensen’s asshole, while he groans and praises and his pheromones fire like crazy—tell Jensen that if this was a rut, he would already have mounted Jensen, all biologic rules aside.

“So fucking wet.”

Jensen gurgles—gets two fingers, three. Humps back on Jared’s hand until the other keeps him still by the hip, until Jared tuts at him while he fucks him open too-slow, too-tender.

Just keeps his hands flat and heavy next to his shoulders, devout and trying fucking hard, and his cock drools another hot line of precome onto the cushions.

Jared rubs a careless thumb over the inside of Jensen’s thigh, so so close to the blood-heavy thrum of his cockhead and Jensen seizes, needy, but Jared’s thumb is gone as soon as it came and he tongues where he’s wedged his fingers in, hard. Groans, deeply pleased.

“This is where I get up to grab the cage,” says Jared, and he gets his fingers out but he does it slowly, and he doesn’t jump up and bound off. Instead, he asks again: “That still what you want?” and Jensen groans, aware of the _very_ clear message his body sends him. “We’ll have to wait until you get soft, anyway. Or, I speed it along.”

Jensen slurs, “Speed it along _how_?” with a hint of panic, and Jared laughs, honest and sweet.

“I feel like you’ve already got the right idea.” He roams his hands over Jensen’s ass, the back of his thighs. Tells him, “We don’t have to, y’know. Just because I run my mouth a lot doesn’t mean…!”

“No, I, uh, I wanna try it. We can still take it off anytime, right?”

“Right.” Jared pats at him like Jensen’s a pet. Smiles and says, “Be right back,” so Jensen has a few hot seconds to slide back into reality, to calm down.

Oh God, this shit surely did escalate fast.

Jared fumbles with small pieces of metal. It looks complicated, but he’s got it. “You’ll have to sit down to piss.”

It’s then that Jensen fully comprehends, “Wait, you’ve _done_ this before,” and Jared gives him a mean little look, pops his eyebrows high for him.

“I knew I’m good, but that I’d fuck you _that_ stupid is a surprise.”

“Fuck you.” Jared laughs again.

Jensen somehow manages to turn himself into a more civilized position. The buddy talk already helped the process along, but Jared dropping to his knees in between Jensen’s spread legs is, uh. Counterproductive.

Jensen mocks, “Stupid hair,” and messes with said mop while Jared lets him, keeps unscrewing the parts that need unscrewing. Tugs, eventually, and Jared looks up at him then, finally, and Jensen uses that moment to pull him in, nudge his face to the still-prominent situation in his crotch.

Jared chuckles. His lashes tickle Jensen’s lower stomach as he blinks. Rough, small, “Change your mind?” and Jensen tells him, “No,” but directs Jared’s mouth where he wants it nevertheless.

Jared turns his head sideways to suck his mouth along Jensen’s cock, up-down the underside, and Jensen’s instincts are pleased. His ass clenches, still wet, still kinda sore, but it mixes in well.

Jared leans truly in. Gets his mouth on Jensen’s balls and sucks at them. Tells him, gently, “This isn’t helping, is it?” and Jensen just shakes his head, smiling.

He lets him up, then, and Jared straightens his back but he smiles down at his work like he’s truly fond of it.

“You meant what you said? About me, mounting you?”

And Jared nods, sheepishly, shy. “At some point. If you’re up for it. No pressure, though.”

“Dude, I’m letting you fuck my ass with a fucking pink jelly dick. Mounting you isn’t exactly a moral strain.”

More chuckling. “True.”

“You ever thought it would go down like this? Us, I mean?”

“I’m just as surprised as you are,” says Jared, rubs his thumb over the knuckle of Jensen’s hand Jensen wraps around his own. “Never thought you were the type to, uh…y’know. With another alpha.”

“No, I mean—you an’ me, specifically.”

Jensen’s best friend and roommate and the most hopeless guy Jensen’s ever known looks up at him with a softness around his eyes that should be illegal. Should be reserved for someone not-Jensen.

Jensen hears, “No, Jensen, I didn’t,” and if this was a movie, a classic, then this would be the moment they magically get drawn in, make out violently and possibly cause a pregnancy in one of them. Where they proclaim their love and how destiny is unfailing and yadda yadda yadda. But this isn’t one of those movies.

So Jensen blurts, “Is it soft enough yet, or?”

~

Monday mornings suck.

In a blind panic, Jensen raids the cleaning supplies. Rubbing alcohol sounds just effective yet harmless enough. He applies extra layers of skin care, after. Unfortunately, the pheromones remain persistent.

He inhales his breakfast, takes his coffee to go in one of the tumblers neither Jared nor Jensen is sure whose it originally was. When he leaves the apartment, Jared is still sound asleep.

People don’t exactly stare at him in the subway or anything, but Jensen feels…on display. Like every glance of a second too long means THEY KNOW.

Jensen Ross Ackles easily forgets that people _habitually_ stare at him constantly any day of the week at any occasion and sweats through his shirt before the train even hits his destination.

Fake-cheerful, “Hey,” and Felicia beams her, “Hey!” right back and then, it—it happens.

She doesn’t, like, overreact. Just this tiny thing of _wait a minute_ and she knows, doesn’t she, she can tell, she can _scent_ it, of course she can; and she keeps smiling because she’s polite and doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable, but she _knows_.

Jensen vanishes into his office. From across the table, Matt greets him, “Hey, morning,” fueled by too much coffee and honest, disgusting cheerfulness, and Jensen just wants to hide. Wants to crawl somewhere and cry but he’s a professional, this is professional, it’s not like what he did is a criminal offense or anything and his workplace is young and progressive anyway, so, calm the fuck down.

Muttered, “Morning,” and Jensen starts up his laptop.

~

By lunchtime, the entire place knows. Nobody’s addressed it, though, so Jensen’s settled with the plan of starting a private session on his laptop, later, check current job listings. Once he’s sat through this meeting, once it’s just himself and his pitiful lunch salad.

“And last but not least, don’t make me remind you of the Greenburg thing again, and I’m not saying this to you specifically, Patrick, but—I am. Thank you.”

Palicki starts gathering her papers; the cue for everyone to do the same, get back to the daily business.

“Oh, I lied, that wasn’t the last thing. Jensen, honey?”

And Jensen Ackles is very sure this is an out-of-body experience. Hears his voice saying, “Yes?” and his face is numb in zero point something.

Palicki’s stoic face pulls into something resembling basic empathy. “You can stop losing your shit. It’s _fine_. What you guys do in your free time isn’t my or anyone else’s business. If anyone, and I mean _anyone_ —” she gives a stern look into the wide-eyed crowd of her employees “—gives you any trouble, you come to _me_. You got it?”

“I, uhm. Yes?”

“Wonderful,” she says, back to bossy.

Jensen’s cardiovascular system did not quite get the memo.

Doesn’t make it easier on him that now, people apparently feel comfortable enough to swarm in on him, pat him on the shoulder and nod and smile and tell him, “Good for you two,” and, “It’s cool, man—I mean, c’mon, we’re not in the middle ages anymore!”

He should probably text Jared. Warn him or something. Then again, he’ll see him again tonight anyway, after work.

Jesus.

Jensen texts _can I go home yet?_ , seated on the toilet in blissful isolation.

Jared’s (immediate) reply is a laugh-crying emoji followed up by an _awwww_.

_they know?_

_yeah_

_what’d they say?_

_don palicki apparently watches over us now_

_oh?  
wow_

_yeah she was…scary._

_even more so than usual?_

_yeah I dunno  
it creeps me tf out when she’s friendly.  
which is mean of me to say. she was genuinely kind._

Jared replies _cute_ and Jensen’s run out of conversation.

Jared is typing again.

_u ok?_

_yeah. think so._

_man I’m sorry for getting it all over your face. that was dumb._

_weird how you spell ‘amazing’_

_[laugh-crying emoji]  
dude  
lemme try n be reasonable here  
I’m trying_

_you gonna work tonight?_

_dunno yet  
maybe  
you got something in mind for me, or?  
I mean, us  
with like. just u an me, no cam  
wow I suck :):):)_

_do you have to decide now or?_

_later is fine_

_cool_

_how’s your cock?_

_sad._

_[laugh-crying emoji]_

_don’t bully him. he’s sulking._

_aw I’m sure_

Jensen’s typed out his _ok gotta head back now ttyl_ but doesn’t get a chance to hit SEND before Jared sends a pic.

Jensen knows what it is before it has fully loaded.

He hits SEND anyway. Chases it with a red-faced angry emoji and puts his phone away to sigh, to take off his glasses so he can wipe at his face right.

What a long-ass fucking day.

~

Matt nearly flings his French dressing across the table and into Jensen’s eye with how wildly he gestures with his fork.

“But, like, how? Why NOW? What HAPPENED?”

Jensen shrugs as he pierces a piece of corn, a cherry tomato.

“I bet people lost money over this.” Jensen scoffs. “No, really. Like, there were bets.”

Jensen raises a single eyebrow. “Seriously? You guys are that bored?”

“Not _me_ ,” insists Matt, and Jensen believes him. Matt’s one of the very few omegas in the office who can stand sharing an office with an alpha (let alone Jensen fucking Ackles) without endangering themselves with constant, severe dehydration. “Who topped, though? There’s money on either option.”

“You know, Matt, for someone who’s not involved, you sure wanna know a whole fucking lot.”

“I didn’t _choose_ this trustworthy personality that makes everyone confide in me, Jensen, and you’re evading the _question_.”

“Dude, I’m not talking about this at work.”

“It’s lunch, not work.”

“Not talking about it, _period_.”

Matt squints. “You were the mountée, weren’t you,” and he startles and then laughs as Jensen pretends to hurl his food at him.

“Matt, seriously, cut it out.”

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just so…!” Matt sighs, smiles cute, chin in his hand; dreamy-eyed. “You guys always were this like, great team. I’m happy for you, seriously.”

Jensen argues, “We’re not, like, together or anything,” and Matt gives him a look, and Jensen knows he’s stupid (and blushing).

They’re not, though. Right?

God, Jensen hasn’t had a steady thing in…what, years? Since midway through his Bachelor’s? He doesn’t know if he’d even _want_ that.

In the subway, with the sun setting, Jensen text-informs that he’s on his way, fifteen minutes. Jared knows that already, knows Jensen’s schedule and his being anal about regular times and consistency but he texts back his _OK :)_ and Jensen smiles at his phone, stupid, utterly stupid.

He’ll have to shower. Is starving, too.

Jensen plucks his phone closer to his face so he can check out the earlier dick pic in an illusion of privacy in the midst of the packed train.

The cage _does_ have its benefits.

~

“Hey.”

“Hi.” Jared looks up from his game on the TV, smiles bright. “There’s leftovers in the microwave, I popped them in for you a second ago, they should be—”

The rest gets eaten up by Jensen’s mouth, by Jensen’s hands on Jared’s face.

He straddles the guy, easily, and Jared drops the controller just to grab him by the waist instead.

Upon getting the chance, Jared repeats, “Hi,” sweet and tender and Jensen’s thrumming, is growling and hungry and Jared’s hands flirt over his back like they’re cute, like they’re demure.

Tense, “Shower with me?” and the microwave chimes, and Jared nods, chuckles.

Fuck, Jensen hates the cage.

Jared teases, “See what I mean?” all huge and muscled and wet and warm under the spray of the showerhead, and Jensen blinks through the water irritating his eyes and he mewls, something embarrassed and needy and he’s already got his leg hiked up and Jared’s kneading at his balls, pulls at them like he’s trying to milk Jensen.

“How did you survive this shit?”

Jared reminds, “Oh, I got paid,” with a laugh, with his fingers dipping lower, further back. “I made it like a diary kinda thing. People went nuts. I mean, I exaggerated, of course, but, I remember. Frustrating, isn’t it?”

Jensen nods, hot. Lets Jared peck kisses against his cheek, behind his ear. Clings to him and just lets him—rub at his hole, tongue his scent glands.

“Gonna have to work you open all over again.”

Jensen groans. “Did you get yourself off, earlier, or…?”

“Didn’t. Just wanted to tease you s’all.”

“Well, it _worked_ ,” and Jared laughs.

Memories. From back when Jared hurt his shoulder something awful, that sling. His miserable self, upset that he hurt and couldn’t do things like he was used to. Jensen, helping him in the shower, at first, and Jared being very unhappy about it. Insisting that, no, Jensen, I got this. Then: breaking his other arm as he slipped, by himself. Jensen had called off work for that. Good times.

Jared’s breathless, “Oh, fuck,” for Jensen swallowing him down halfway, greedy and empty and dry and warm, spread out on Jared’s bed and Jensen closes his eyes, just feels and enjoys and when Jared finally recovers and cranes his neck, pulls Jensen backwards by his hips and starts eating him out for real, then, it’s. Fucking magnificent.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect. Fuck, _fuck_ …”

Jensen bobs his head, his cheeks sucked in tight. Middle finger and thumb in a ring around the fat base of Jared’s cock to just hold him steady with as little contact as possible so all Jared can feel is Jensen’s mouth, the wet, soft heat of it. Can sop out wetter, coat Jensen’s tongue and the back of his throat and then the _inside_ of his throat. Grunts, baby-rolls of hips; thoughtless, instinctive.

Jensen’s arousal is off-kilter. Got nowhere to go but to the throb of his insides Jared’s licking into, the empty pulse of his cock pulled down by the weight of the metal cage. It’s Jared-sized so there’s a little bit of room, just enough for him to fill out a _tiny_ amount—and it’s maddening. He knows it’s only been a mere twenty-four hours but his balls feel heavy like he hasn’t blown a load in like a fucking _week_.

Pussy-drunk, “You wanna come, baby, huh?” and broad, long strokes of Jared’s tongue. Not even using his fingers and Jensen’s wrecked already, already shivers and he nods with Jared’s cock down his throat, sucks at him good and kneads at his balls like he’d do it to himself, like he can somehow get off through Jared.

“Let’s get you something nice, okay? Let me up for a second, c’mon.”

Jensen does. Wipes at the mess around his mouth and feels cross-eyed as he watches Jared picking something from his drawer for him.

“You’re gonna hate it,” admits Jared, and Jensen spots that egg-shaped vibe. “But it’s so so good.”

It’s bigger than Jensen remembers. Of course, that doesn’t stop Jared—just kneels back between Jensen’s thighs, pops a rubber over the toy and slicks it with enough lube to make a man blush, and Jensen gulps in a huge breath as Jared just casually bends him in half.

Lines the toy up and simply thumbs it in, shushes at Jensen even though Jensen isn’t even saying anything.

The plastic is smooth and kinda cold, especially with the lube. It slides in easy and Jensen’s body is confused as to what the fuck is happening, and Jared’s thumb chases after it to push it deeper, settle it right where he wants it to be. Fumbles with the baby-pink remote connected to the vibe by a solid-looking cable, and as the thing vibrates alive, Jensen tenses, and his hand flies between his legs in phantom pain.

Except that it doesn’t hurt, but…

Deep-smirked, “Yeah?” and Jensen just nods, gasps, and Jared switches the thing into the next gear, and just, wow.

Strained-hollow, “Fuck,” and Jared leans in to kiss him, then, just covers him and eats at him and Jensen gets his arms back around him, keeps him.

The head of Jared’s cock slots up underneath Jensen’s nuts, humps into his taint before he lets it dip lower, rub where the cable is peeking out of Jensen’s body.

Jared mumbles, “I’ve got some tests done. Should get the results tomorrow,” and Jensen needs a second to understand what he means, and he flushes hot, then.

Nods and croaks, “Okay,” and lets Jared suck at his tongue again.

“Just to be safe.”

“Yeah, I. I’ll go, like, yeah.”

Jared chuckles. “Feelin’ good?” and Jensen nods again, grateful and lost and he cringes when Jared gets a thumb on one of his nipples, slurs, “Fuck,” and gets more. Has Jared lapping his scent glands while he milks at his nothing-tits, while the damn egg inside of him buzzes right up against his prostate like the worst fucking tease.

“Fuck, I’m so wet,” and that’s true. Despite the cage, of course, his cock can still drool, especially with this much pressure on his prostate. And it does, plenty.

Jared agrees, “You are,” and makes him flinch with a too-long tug on his nipples. “You wanna stay on your back? Can I fuck your face?”

Mumbled, “Yes and yes,” and Jared’s so blessedly fast.

Feeds his cock past Jensen’s parting lips like they’ve done this a million times already, like he just trusts that Jensen can take this kind of violence. Just slots in there, past the clench of Jensen’s gag reflex, and Jensen curls both hands around those thighs just to have something to ground him, keep them out of the way.

Keens, because Jared finds the next setting on the vibe, and settles in to truly straddle Jensen’s face.

Jensen’s getting his throat pounded in under a minute.

Just hears his own gurgled struggle, the wet slap of Jared’s balls against his chin; how the bed creaks with it, their combined weight and Jared’s heavy rhythm—the deeply buried buzz of the toy, his legs twitching and roaming on the bed.

“God, you’re so good. Being so fucking good for me.”

Jensen can only agree spiritually. Every other plane is unavailable.

Jared pulling out hurts. Jared forcing back in hurts as well. Jensen doesn’t want it to stop.

Eventually, Jared truly sits back; lets Jensen cough and breathe and helps him wiping at his face, get the mess under control. Wipes at Jensen’s eyes, his ears.

Laughed, brittle, “Fuck,” and, “fucking look at you,” and Jensen groans, embarrassed, uncaring.

“Can I come, please?”

Still amused, Jared considers, “Probably not,” and Jensen feels him tugging at the cord, the toy. “I thought maybe nothing but this today. No friction, just building up pressure.” Jensen groans; Jared laughs again. “Told you it’s a lot of work.”

“How long for you?”

“Hm?”

“How long did it take for you?”

“Uh, eight days? Pretty sure eight days.” Jensen produces a pained noise. “But I, like, teased myself a lot. Like, _a lot_. You were out on that tour with Gen, remember? I had, like, all day to cam.”

“Jesus fuck.” Jensen sweats, grumbles. “I can’t fucking do this shit for eight fucking days.”

“It’ll be worth it, though.” Jared roams lower until he can get his mouth on the swell of Jensen’s balls. Laps at them under Jensen’s glaring eyes because he’s a fucking bitch like that. “Can you imagine? How intense it’s gonna be?”

“Getting an idea, yeah.”

Jensen gets a hold of Jared’s hair, keeps him where he is like that. Feels his breath on his skin as he chuckles, as he lets Jensen nudge him how he wants, open-mouthed and easy.

Dizzy, “Fuck, your mouth,” and Jared makes a point, sucks at his balls so so good that yeah, Jensen’s positive he’s gonna go insane. “You gonna fuck me while I still got that thing on?”

“You want to?”

“If you fuck me, I’ll blow in like eight fucking seconds, dude.”

Jared considers, “That’d be pretty hot,” but keeps his fingers by himself, just licks and kisses. Jensen cringes for the tease, the prospect of having to wait.

“Fuck my throat again? Please?”

“You sure?”

“Just let me have _that_ at least,” and Jared doesn’t make him ask again.


	4. Chapter 4

Slowly but surely, the year edges into summer. Keeps the temperatures and spirits up. Jared and Jensen know just the right time to slip into their bar and still score decent seats.

The booze hits good with the air up in the eighties. Jensen allows himself to be talked into yet another pitcher despite having work tomorrow. Won’t kill him. He’s overdone it worse before, many times; always showed up on time though, without fail. Of course. He’s disciplined like that.

“You gonna come in tomorrow?”

Jared nods over his beer, confused. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

“I dunno, you’ve been throwing these back like nobody’s business.”

Jared explains, “I’m thirsty,” and refills his glass yet again. Jensen’s already tipsy, tired from being at work all day. What did Jared even do? Clean the apartment? Get his workout in? Jensen envies him, sometimes. Then again, the company doesn’t need the little IT the website and e-mails require as much as it needs his editorial skills.

Jensen’s got his chin on his hand and with it seemingly the weight of the entire fucking world. His glasses are smeared something awful but he won’t be bothered now.

“You know people bet money on us?”

“Huh?”

“Like, y’know.”

Jared doesn’t. Jensen makes an explicit hand gesture.

Jared says, “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Jared shrugs, smiles upside-down. “Well, I mean. The rumor’s been persistent since college, so.”

Jensen frowns. “Matt thinks I played O.” Jared splutters into his drink. “That’s not funny! Do I really fucking look the part that much?!”

Jared tells him, “I’m not fucking answering that,” and Jensen truly appreciates that he holds back on his IT’S A TRAP staple.

“You’ve got the, the fucking— _hair_ going on!”

“I’m also, like, fifty pounds heavier, man. _And_ taller.”

“Fuck you.” Jensen picks his drink back up to sip. “Not _that_ much taller.”

If this was just about what Jared Tristan P. wants, Jensen would have gotten his mouth kissed back in the bar, out in the street, up the staircase inside their building. But Jensen’s not public like that. Can’t.

As is, gets his ass heaved onto the kitchen counter, and it still surprises him—how fucking _strong_ Jared is. Sees the sheer bulk of him every day, knows about his gym regimen and sometimes they go for a run together, but seeing (and feeling) him putting all that mass to actual use, is…a thing.

Jensen’s a hundred-seventy pounds of struggling breath. Of sweat and roaming hands and with Jared tucked close between his legs, and Jared’s face in his hands, and Jared’s mouth on Jensen’s.

Breathless, “I’m clean, by the way,” while Jensen’s getting his jeans worked open. “Got the results today.”

Jensen comments, “Great,” and latches back onto that mouth. God, like being back in high school with all that kissing. But they taste so good together, he can’t help it.

“You gonna let me go bare?” and Jensen’s vertigo is not singularly caused by Jared yanking his jeans down his legs while he’s still sitting, nope. Jared continues, “’Cause I’d like that,” absolutely drunk and Jensen likes him even better like this, all loose and unguarded.

And Jensen murmurs, “Yeah,” because, fuck, of course.

Jared’s mouth morphs into some grade-A wolf grin. “And you’re seriously wondering while people assume you’d be the O in this?”

“Fuck you; you offered me your ass like five minutes into all this crap.”

“’Course,” vows Jared, pawing all over Jensen’s thighs, his hips, his belly. “’Course, baby, anything you want.”

“Fuck, how can you talk like that and still have the bigger dick?” Jared laughs for that, all sweet. Gets it out, just to make a point, just so Jensen’s got something to put his hand on. Jensen scowls. “You’d really let me, though? You sure?”

“Already told you, I’m all yours.” Jared splays both of his hands next to Jensen, on top of the counter. Leans into the grip Jensen’s wringing around his cock, only half-mast but it’s heavy and _there_. “You want a written invitation, or?”

“What, to fuck your ass?”

“Yeah?” Then, sobering, “Y’don’t have to, of course, if you,” but Jensen’s already got his second hand down there, then, and Jared doesn’t come around to finish that sentence.

Secret, “Here?” and Jared nods, all demure and shy like nobody’s ever—woah, wait. “Wait, did someone, did anyone…? Jesus fuck,” and Jensen crumbles just that little more.

Tucks his fingers harder up against the hot clench of Jared’s asshole and Jared’s cock gives an aborted throb in his other hand, and. Jensen’s gonna lose it.

“There was someone, once,” admits Jared, all quiet. “But we didn’t want the same things, so it didn’t work out.”

“They mounted you?”

Jared nods. “No knotting, though.”

“Jesus.”

“And of course, Melissa was great at pegging.”

“She WHAT?”

Jared laughs, “Your face,” but Jensen shuts him up with a kiss and rucks them even closer so he can finger Jared’s ass better.

Jared purrs. Gets a hand on Jensen’s nude/metal package. Has his face tucked into the crook of Jensen’s neck, now, so Jensen can scent him even better. All spice and burnt sugar, acidic.

“You never told me.”

“Why would I?”

“Dunno. Just. It’s weird. That I didn’t know that about you.”

Jared mumbles, “I like kissing you,” and Jensen hums in agreement. Grateful for the change of topic, he gets his hand to his mouth to get some spit on it, gets it back where Jared’s—well, maybe not _tense_ , but even betas are…easier. “Your scent, God… Just wanna crawl inside you and never get out again.”

“Easy on the Hannibal crap, dude.”

Jared chuckles. His breath is too hot. “You wanna go to my room? Easier when I’m not standing.”

Of fucking course Jensen wants that.

Strips while he walks, and Jared’s so out of it he doesn’t even notice—makes a surprised little noise when he turns around and sees Jensen remarkably more naked than before, a tiny, “Oh,” and Jensen’s all over him already. Helps him pulling his tank top over his head, undoes Jared’s top bun on accident. “Wait, my hair… Your glasses…”

Jared lands on his own bed, belly-up. Laughs once, surprised and embarrassed to a degree that makes Jensen ask, “You okay?” and Jared vows, “Yeah, yeah, just—c’mere. Please.”

Teeth and lips. Stubble against stubble. Jared reeks of beer and dick and BO and Jensen’s very suddenly very violently thinking about asking him to take the fucking cage off.

Jensen admits, “I wanna suck you off.” Jared hums his consent. “And get one of your fugly pink girl toys up your ass while I’m at it.”

Jared makes a different kinda noise (not any less enthusiastic). “You wanna pick one?”

“You sure you wanna give me that kind of authority?”

“Dude, I _so_ support you having _all_ the fucking authority.”

Jensen’s not sure what he’s looking for yet, just digs through the drawer and hopes to know it when he sees it. And yep, bingo. He grabs the lube, too, and Jared’s up on his elbows and watches him. Those eyes go all dewy at the sight of Jensen’s choice.

And Jared just nods upon Jensen’s faltering, “This okay?” and that’s a delight. “Pretty big,” he considers—they’ve been fooling around enough that _he_ could take this one after some foreplay, but, uhm. “You think you can take it?”

And Jared nods again and pulls his knees back and open some more, and Jensen flushes different. Jared repeats, “You don’t have to,” while Jensen’s already settling in between his legs, belly-down on the bed and it’s so comfy, here, and he wants this, he does. A lot, actually.

Didn’t tell Jared, of course, that he’d seen clips of him working. That he’d seen him acting the way people apparently want to see him—this beefy, tall alpha all soft and adorable and fucking himself on some inflatable, fake cock. And Jensen wants _that_ , too.

Jensen licks one broad stripe from Jared’s asshole to his balls—Jared twitches beautifully. One thumb down there; the other into the sensitive inside of Jared’s thigh, frame-cupping his heavy balls and Jensen licks those, too. A tease. He’s sweating.

Jared obviously tries to relax. Stops craning his neck to watch and just drops, flattens himself out on his bed with his legs folded and spread and he wipes both of his huge hands across his face, keeps them there to hide and mumble, “Fuck,” and, yeah, hard same.

More spit. Jensen’s thumb massages almost-in. “You play with this a lot? On cam?” and Jared nods, hidden. “Your partners, too? You let them in here?”

“Didn’t have anyone for a while now,” admits Jared, and Jensen feels stupid for getting happy about it. “But usually, people don’t… I mean, you know…”

“Yeah, I know.” Jensen’s thumb sinks inside to the first knuckle. “Goddamn idiots.”

Jared exhales all shaky, and Jensen can _feel_ that.

Is delirious and wonders, “You’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you,” and Jared just nods like an idiot, like they’re teens and there are no consequences. Jensen mouths at his balls again, pumps his thumb deeper because yeah, fuck, he can. So fucking tight and hot and he knows how it feels to have that played with himself now. He’ll make this good no matter how sleep-deprived he’ll have to zombie into the office tomorrow.

Fuck, Jared’s gonna have to go to work all sore.

Jensen maneuvers for the lube. Slathers some on his thumb while he works that inside, slicks Jared up all nice and sucks at his balls in an afterthought (fucking preoccupied). It’s surreal that his cock can’t get hard right now, that he’s playing with someone’s ass and knows he’s not gonna dump his load in it later.

Jared opens relatively easy. The booze helps.

Jensen exchanges thumb for middle and ring, twists to spread more lube and finally sucks his mouth over the crown of Jared’s cock. Rocks his tongue up against Jared’s frenulum and watches him trembling, the clench of his stomach under his held-back breath.

Lick of lips and, “You have any idea how tight you are?” just to tease him, but Jared croaks a shy, “Sorry,” and Jensen growls, stupid alpha shit, and finally grinds his knuckles up against Jared’s taint.

“You’re sorry for how tight your fucking pussy is?”

It’s usually Jared who gives the best comebacks. Who hits you unprepared and is always so funny, so carefree and smart. But now, he can’t say anything.

Just struggles around Jensen’s fingers, tries to let him have whatever he wants, ’cause that’s another thing he is all about. Just repeats, “Sorry,” like a broken record, and Jensen’s got mercy on him. Rewards him with a third finger and that’s too soon, too tight, but Jared doesn’t complain, not a peep, just clenches sweet and gives Jensen’s mouth more precome to lap at.

God, fuck, Jensen’s instincts are getting real pissed at him right now.

He wants to breed, now. Can and should.

“As soon as we’re done with that cage project shit…!” and Jared immediately agrees, “Fuck, yeah,” and Jensen takes him down his throat and grinds his fingers in, and, fuck, that’s—a thing.

How rock-hard Jared is despite (because of?) getting fingered too rushed. The prospect of Jensen filling him up with that toy—nowhere near the size of Jensen’s cock, no, but…big enough.

Fuck, Jensen _needs_ to see that.

The only warning he gives is him slicking up the toy; the laser-focus of his eyes. And Jared sees that, all of that, but doesn’t say _stop_ or any equivalent of that.

They both hold their breath when Jensen starts to push the toy up inside Jared’s ass.

Jared breaks first. Says, “Mmh,” or something similar, close-mouthed and adorable and Jensen pushes harder because it’s a fucking struggle.

Jensen slurs, “Fuck,” works Jared’s cock with his hand instead of his mouth now so he can look down, can watch for real how Jared’s body just—accepts. Opens up, barely enough but the toy fits, and it’s halfway in already and Jensen pauses to pump it once and careful, and Jared mutters something illegible again. “You okay?”

Muffled, strained, “Fucking wish I hadn’t talked you into that fucking cage, man…”

Jensen splutters his laugh. “Too fucking bad.”

“Hey.”

“Hm?” Jensen looks up just in time to see Jared combing his hair back out of his face.

“Kiss me?”

“You’re such a girl,” jokes Jensen, but leans in, gives the alpha what the alpha wants. Rocks the goddamned toy deeper just to feel Jared exhaling, grunting. That faint, throaty curse. The flutter of Jared’s lashes. Jensen asks him, “Hurts?” even though he knows the answer already.

Has Jared shaking his pretty head and telling him, “No,” and his mouth stays just a little open with how Jensen keeps moving the toy, thrusts it in shallow, curt strokes and Jared just looks at him, lost. Murmurs, “Don’t stop,” and yeah, absolutely not.

“Can you come like this?”

“I dunno,” and Jared gets another kiss for that one. Only reluctantly lets Jensen sit back on his haunches, keeps hanging onto the hem of Jensen’s tee and doesn’t know what to do with his other hand. Doesn’t put it on his dick, and Jensen’s gonna go crazy with that.

Jensen orders, “Relax,” and grinds the toy faster, in an angle resembling how he remembers laying it onto his non-alpha partners. And Jared curses again, then, strangled little,

“Fuck,”

and Jensen watches those fingers twitching atop Jared’s hip; curling and withholding and shit, he’s so so fucking hard. Looks like he’s ready to burst, and how’s that even possible with how many drinks they’ve had?

“What a good fucking boy you are,” comments Jensen, and Jared cringes beautifully. Can’t even approve or deny, just lies there, taking it, sweating, blushing. Smug, “Oh, almost forgot,” and he scoots lower to get his mouth back on that cock like he said he would, like maybe not even Jared remembers and, yeah—hands in his hair and an urgent, “Oh, _God_ ,” and Jensen’s not even taking him down deep, just suckles on the head. Apparently, that’s enough combined with the stimuli from the toy.

Jared comes trembling, desperately tries to remain in control, to not bow off the bed and into Jensen’s throat. Whimpers and takes his hand off Jensen’s head eventually to let him do whatever, give him as much or as little as Jensen decides he wants to supply.

Has to tell him eventually: “God, s-stop. Stop, I’m. Jen—e-enough.”

Still/again hard. Jensen sits up and back, watches his handiwork. Keeps pumping his arm, the toy.

Jared groans, “Fuck,” and tries to relax. Tries to just lay back. Hides his face behind one of his forearms and hesitates to push Jensen away with the other. Looks up at Jensen with the kinda face that could silently talk any alpha into _yeah okay just one more I guess_ and, fuck, Jensen’s not sure if Jared can even handle what he’s not-asking for.

Growled, “Want me to stop? Yes or no?” and Jared winces for the alpha in his voice, and he takes a brave breath.

Mutters, “Yeah,” still sounds conflicted but he’s usually wise enough to quit while he still can. Jensen grinds the toy in once more, all the way to the hilt, before he begins to pull it out for good. Jared whimpers with more emotional than physical loss (if Jensen had to guess), so Jensen curls over him to coddle him, pet him. Hesitates with the toy until Jared allows, “Just toss it, I’ll clean up later,” and that’s that.

Jensen sinks into pillows, into kisses. Feels Jared’s cock still ready to go (even if decreasingly so) and groans, lets Jared pluck at his nipples and giggle at his, “Not fair.”

“Hm.” God, Jensen’s body can’t handle this. “Want me to do something for you, or?”

“Nah, it’s like. Ass-o-clock or sum. Should get some sleep. Fuck, _stop_ it.”

Kiss on the nose, on the mouth. “You wanna sleep here, or?”

“That okay?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

Jensen mumbles, “Okay,” and allows his eyes to drift as shut as they had been trying to for the better part of tonight.

~

“Fuck…what…?”

“Shit, sorry.”

Jensen grumbles. Turns around.

“Didn’t mean to wake you.”

Groaned, “Gym?”

Jared just snickers.

Jensen decides, “Freak,” and buries himself deeper in the covers.

“I’ll wake you when I’m back. With coffee.”

Slurred, “Uh-huh,” and Jensen doesn’t even hear the fucking door he’s out again so fast and effectively.

Jared does end up keeping his promise. Is primed and sparkling and _awake_ while all Jensen is ready for is selling his soul for just a couple more hours of goddamn sleep.

Jensen watches him beating egg whites.

“You are not fair.”

“Exercise helps.”

“You should be _sorry_ right now. Not fucking… _cheerful_.”

Jared remarks, “We’ll be late if you don’t get into the shower within the next, uh,” quick glance at his fitness watch, “five minutes, old man.”

Jensen exclaims silent death threats over the rim of his coffee cup.

One hand in his hip, the other on the kitchen counter, Jared just shrugs his immense shoulders at him.

They end up making the early train together. Sit next to each other, huddled closed but yeah, sitting, and Jensen’s only a little hungover after the shower anymore. Mainly morning-groggy, as per usual. His friend’s presence doesn’t aid much in making him excited for the day.

Not for the workday, at least.

“You wanna do lunch, later?”

“Yeah, sure. You pick?”

“Oh, me?” Jared turns to truly look at Jensen for this while they walk. “Sure? Yeah, uhm, sure.”

Jensen feels his cheeks heating up. “Don’t get used to it,” and Jared’s almost-smile turns into a real one for it.

Since he’s only on site for two days of the week and uses a laptop anyway, Jared doesn’t have a fixed workspace. Usually sits over in the corner with Felicia and the current intern, and yeah, he beelines there today as well. A last semi-enthusiastic wave before Jensen heads into his and Matt’s more ‘luxurious’ (as in: one room for only two people, including him) office.

The usual, “Morning,” for his office bud, and Matt reciprocates it and only gives Jensen a _small-sized_ grin today. It’s been getting better. Even that bitch can adjust.

“You two better not fuck in the bathroom.”

“Ha ha.”

“Or the supply room. Or the room only Jared and Adri have a key to where they store the spare printers and PCs.”

Jensen gives the O a warning glare. Matt looks back at him with all the smugness of a person who knows exactly how rightful their accusations are.

Jensen’s not fucking anybody at work. Jensen _is_ _a very professional person_.

big jay: wanna fuck?   
(read: 11:56 AM)

A very. Professional person.

And unpaid lunch very obviously isn’t ‘work’.

Jensen gasps, “Kuh-keep it down,” and Jared just looks straight at him, two fingers deep in Jensen’s ass and tells him, “That’s _my_ line.”

Jensen kisses him for obvious measures. Tries to gather his dress shirt out of the way of the deliberate swing of Jared’s cock and allows himself to be pushed further up against the dusty wall of the even dustier supply room. Rucks the growling alpha closer by one beltloop of his jeans and finally finds something—anything—to put his hiked-up foot on top of. Closes his eyes and sucks at Jared’s tongue, and, yeah, this definitely trumps the stale kebab from around the corner.

“God, I can’t wait.”

“Jay, shut it, seriously…”

“You think maybe this weekend? Or the next?”

Jensen mumbles, “I dunno.” Got his tests done yesterday and they said some of ’em take a few days. It’s only Tuesday, but who knows. “Fuck, easy there…”

“Wanna suck me off?” Jensen groans. “Gonna get messy otherwise.”

Jensen complains about something superficial he doesn’t even care about. About something he doesn’t even mean since he’s on his knees by then. One hand wrapped almost-around and nursing at the tip and he hears Jared groaning above him, allows to be caught between alpha and wall and closes his eyes, blissed. So fucking ready and just as impatient as Jared, but maybe this tiny delay is just what they needed, to, uh…

Fuck, he knows damn well they’re not gonna talk it out anytime soon.

“Want you to sit on my face tonight. Okay?”

Jensen’s groan gets severely overshadowed by the firm knock on the door.

Jensen’s head snaps back and away and into the wall behind him, hard.

Their boss announces, “Jared, hey. If you see Jensen, tell him I mean what I say when I say not on the job, okay?”

Jared replies, “Uh, yeah, sure,” loud and high and Jensen wipes at his mouth while Jared’s tucking himself back into his jeans, while his heart beats out of his fucking chest.

“Great,” chimes behind-the-locked-door Adri. “Because wow, you know how I hate repeating myself. Later!”

There’s no more after that. They listen closely, stare at each other in shock.

Jared frowns. “She’s damn good.”

“No, we’re just, uhm. Predictable, man.”

“I guess.”

Jared helps Jensen up. Wipes his overgrown hands down his thighs and waits for Jensen to fix his clothes back into decency and clears his throat a couple of times.

“We should, uhm. Probably leave separately.”

“Yeah, genius.”

“You go first. Wash up.”

Jensen grumbles, “Uh-huh,” and accepts the pecked little smooch to his still-hot cheek.

Guilty, “Was worth a try,” and, hopeful: “Kebab?”

Jensen side-eyes his watch. “Well, they better make it quick.”

~

Felicia bumps into him in the tea kitchen and Jensen gives her a classic, “Hey,” and considers the conversation done with that.

Gets an elbow to his ribs though while he reaches for the coffee and hisses another, “Hey,” sharper and yeah, her expression tells him he’s lucky to only have gotten the elbow.

“If you break his heart, I will break something of yours.”

“Uh.”

“I haven’t seen him this happy in—ages, Ackles.” Felicia points her finger at him. “Do. Not! Blow this for us.”

Jensen demands, “Who’s ‘us’?” but she’s vanished already by then, leaves him alone and, yeah, frankly insulted. Just a little confused anymore. (He’s rapidly getting used to coworkers feeling worryingly entitled to Jared’s and his relationship.) He sighs, frowns. Gets his coffee ready to carry back to his office.

And, just to be clear: Jared’s _always_ happy.

 _Always_ a freaking ray of sunshine. Especially on his two days in public, out here, out of the comfort zone of their den.

Wants to show off how great he is doing, that nothing can bother or touch him and that, yeah, he’s amazing, don’t worry, of course he’ll fix that problem for you, of course, of course.

On the outside, at least. All of that.

Jensen squints at their little table of three. Felicia taking a call while Jared’s introducing the intern to their mailing system with a huge smile. You can hear him laughing across the entire floor. Jensen’s frown deepens. He didn’t know Jared and Felicia were close enough that he’d confide in her or anything.

“Ah, there you are. Thought I’d have to send a search group for you and your boyfriend.”

“Matt, shut it.”

“So, are you dating or what? What’s going on?”

Jensen points to the poster he’s hung on the wall to his right, right above his computer screen, while he takes a seat: two squares, one labelled PRIVATE and the other WORK, divided by a huge gap and a bright red line. In his peripheral, he watches Matt rolling his eyes.

Reminds, “Got it?” and Matt snarls, “Bitch.”

~

“Are you talking about us?”

“Hm?”

Jensen deepens, “To anyone?” and Jared’s eyes swim for a beat before they resettle once more. Jared shrugs.

“Not really. You?”

“No.”

Joked, “You want me to?” and Jensen would chastise him if he didn’t add himself: “Or _don’t_ want me to? Does it bother you?”

“No. Just…” and Jared says, “ _Just_ ,” together with him, mocking, in-synch, and chuckles for Jensen being dumb and getting caught in his stupid bullshit. Jensen sighs. Wipes his hand across his face and back into his hair and sighs again, belly-down in Jared’s bed and very tempted to just go ahead and order some pizza.

Hears Jared’s gentle, “Hey—it’s okay,” a careful nudge to Jensen’s shoulder.

“It’s not like I’m…y’know?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“It doesn’t _bother_ me.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Just…!” Jensen looks for Jared’s eyes, finds them patient and right there and groans with embarrassment. Hides his face in Jared’s pillow and allows his back to be stroked. “God, I hate this.”

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“We really should, though.”

“Hm, I dunno.” Jared shrugs again, laid out on his back and exactly as naked as Jensen. Still. Not like it makes much sense to put on clothes anymore once they’re by themselves, apparently. “It’s great. I feel great about this. If you don’t wanna talk yet, or, _ever_ , then that’s…”

“Jared…”

“No, it’s really fine by me! I mean, I don’t wanna pressure you into anything, or—”

“ _Jared_.”

“…Yes.”

“Jared, shut up.”

Jared agrees, “Okay,” and gets his mouth kissed, gets Jensen blanketing him. Smiles up at him, tender and tired and smelling like Jensen’s skin, Jensen’s spit. Says, “Hm,” and slips both of his huge hands over Jensen’s bare upper back. “If this is your way of not talking, I’ll take it.”

Jensen kisses that stupid mouth again. Slips his tongue in there as well and sighs, pleased, and Jared reciprocates that. Holds him close and it’s nice to drift like that. Eases Jensen’s anxiety and he almost feels like a reputable guy by the time the kiss breaks up. When they’re back to smacks of lips and Jensen’s stomach threatens to rumble. Almost nightfall. God, they went straight to bed after work.

Between kisses, “Food?” and Jared nods, somehow, squeezes him sweet and encouraging and Jensen feels those pecs clenching against his own with it. “Okay, lemme up then, big guy. C’mon.”

Jensen’s semi-free and rummaging for his phone as he hears, “Hey?” and he mutters, “Yeah?” on instinct, and Jared’s looking at him, is still holding onto him.

Hears him asking, “We still good?” and Jensen sighs, and he’s bad at this stuff, and maybe Felicia’s been right to remind him of his virtues.

As his sole reply, Jensen pinch-and-twists Jared’s nipple, and Jared yelps at that, and they can laugh together, afterwards.

Another kiss (or three). “Texan barbecue, extra cheese?”

Jared tells him, “You got it,” and, yeah, in-fucking-deed.


	5. Chapter 5

The e-mail says Jensen’s negative on everything, so that’s a relief.

Been a while since he had that shit done and while he’s always careful, he’d been embarrassed that Jared thought of it first. Jared, who is such a relatively _modest_ alpha. Who doesn’t simply stick his dick into anything on two legs, like most (like Jensen), but who’s thoughtful and picky and wines and dines you, first, at the very least.

Who lets slip a, “Fuck,” without thinking, and Jensen can imagine his face—all slack and dreamy and he’s sweating, tries to focus on his game but Jensen’s gonna suck his load out of him any minute now and the folks in the in-game chat are gonna be none the wiser while the folks on Jared’s cam show are free to watch him struggling from two camera angles at once.

One for Jared, chest-up, the other underneath the table, with Jensen.

They don’t know about the cage, though. Don’t know that there’s a respectably-sized vibrator working Jensen’s guts; just see his masked face in the limited room between Jared’s legs and the table.

Then, strained, “Guys, I gotta go,” and one of Jared’s hands fly to choke his cock by the base, tries to hold off the inevitable and Jensen swirls his tongue, and he feels it, and God, yeah.

Jensen hears the clatter of the headset getting flung off and away, of Jared’s graveled curses as he unloads, heavy and thick and plenty, and Jensen tries his best to swallow it all but he messes up, splutters around his mouthful and Jared grinds his hips up far, works himself back down Jensen’s throat to bury more of his come directly inside of him. Jensen gags but allows Jared to get a hold on his head, pull him in and keep him there.

Growled purr. Satisfied.

“Fuck, that was good.”

Jensen swallows. Swallows again. Jared helps by thumbing some of the spilled mess back into his mouth.

“You guys wanna see something pretty, huh?” and Jensen knows what’s gonna happen. Is already getting pulled up, into Jared’s lap and plain sight. Jared makes him straddle him in his stupid chair and how the fuck is it not breaking, but all Jensen can think is to look back over his shoulder, watch Jared pawing his ass open for their audience.

Hears Jared’s mesmerized, “Fuck,” as he shows off the steady pulse of the too-big toy, the fat clear base of it offering a great view of just how wide Jensen’s stretched out around it, how wet and clenched up and pink he is inside. Jared can’t help himself, inches a finger there, digs in and pulls and Jensen makes a faint noise and his mouth is so fucking sore but he sucks his lip in just to stay quiet, keeps his hands on Jared’s shoulders because he’s good and this is his place.

Jared gets a mouth on his nipple, sucks on it like he’s trying for milk. Jensen’s face is off-screen but he watches his ass tilting out, clenching sweet.

His balls are heavy and swollen but if you look closely, you can see—

“You see this?” and Jared tugs Jensen’s sack out of the way to grant full view of the metal keeping him soft, of the clear, fat line of precome drooling down over the still-there swell of Jared’s cock. “Such a cute little pet, don’t you guys think? All neat and tight, just like he’s supposed to be. Yeah, Yax, you wanna bet?” Jared adds, “Haha, fuck,” and Jensen feels him truly tugging at the toy know, and he braces himself.

More suction on his nipple and again, “Fuck,” all soft and adoring and Jensen moans in sympathy as he watches inch after inch of the fat toy pulling out of him, how his body clings to it.

Jared pushes it back in. Lets it settle for a treacherous second before he pulls it back out and repeats, angles it right for it to scrape past Jensen’s prostate on each stroke. Milks Jensen’s balls in-synch and mumbles, “Babe,” and Jensen dips his head down to kiss him, give him what he wants.

The chat is unimportant, now.

Secret, “Babe, let me fuck you. Let me in there, please,” and Jensen can smell him, how he’s fucking solid all over again like it’s never enough, and as he nods, Jared nods as well, closed-mouthed and lost.

Jared presses the toy back inside him, hard, so he can lean forward, reach the keyboard.

“See you guys real soon, we need a minute,” and Jared ends the broadcast with that.

Sits back and Jensen’s on his mouth right away, kisses and kisses while Jared’s opening him up further, fucks him with the toy until he’s finally decided it’s enough, that the wait is over right the fuck now.

Just tosses the condom-wrapped piece of plastic onto the floor and slathers another dollop of lube over his cock and doesn’t ask again, and Jensen doesn’t ask either, just raises up so he can sink down on it all clumsy and shaky because, fuck, it’s happening.

Jared is completely quiet; just holds his cock steady with one hand until it is no longer needed, wraps both hands around Jensen’s waist, next, and tilts his head up to watch—Jensen. Jensen’s face.

Jesus fuck he’s fucking _big_.

Rocks his hips, unthinking, once Jensen has the audacity to stop the descent even for a second, and Jensen gasps, then, strained and shocked and Jared slurs, “Fuck,” because yeah Jensen can feel his guts clenching up like crazy, can feel how he’s choking the alpha the fuck out.

Jensen whimpers, doesn’t mean to just like he doesn’t mean to raise back up, but Jared’s instincts take that as an invitation to pull him down with the grip he’s got on him, and that’s another inch Jensen’s ass wasn’t meant to take and he sobs, truly struggles, and Jared kisses him on the mouth for it.

Licks into him while he rocks them closer, deeper. While he knocks his cock so far up Jensen’s guts it hurts in a way Jensen didn’t know was possible—this invasive, body horror kinda level.

There’s no way Jared’s bottomed out yet, but Jensen can’t. Truly puts up a fight when Jared attempts to tug him lower, and the alpha gets it, then; lets up and pets and kisses and that makes it better.

Jensen’s already rolling his hips by himself again by the time Jared intelligently offers, “Bed?” and, yeah, fuck.

Jared doesn’t pull out of him for the transfer. Just lifts Jensen and Jensen yelps and holds on, and he makes one truly embarrassing noise upon getting dropped on the bed (even if carefully).

“Fuck, fuck…!”

“Hurts?”

Jensen whines, “Yeah!” and gets the fucking ski mask yanked off his face, off his head, finally, and Jared blankets him and kisses him and rocks their bodies together and, oh, shit, fucking shit. “Fuck, holy shit, holy fucking _shit_ …!”

The power of language dissolves right under Jared, dropping his hips once and powerful.

Jensen scrambles for support; anything. Digs his fingers into Jared’s back and just holds on, all his breath effectively knocked out of him and he feels Jared kissing his cheek, his face, feels him brushing Jensen’s messy hair out of his face for him and just sobs, wet, for the fucking weight of him forcing him too-wide.

Hears Jared asking, “Okay?” and Jensen nods, stupid, with tears in his eyes, and it is, it really is, even if it probably shouldn’t be.

More kissing makes it better. Makes Jensen melt, somewhere, everywhere, and Jared licks at the mess in the corner of Jensen’s mouth while he slops into him in tight, measured strokes. Jensen can’t even _see_ straight anymore.

“Turn around, babe, c’mon. Let me take care of you right.”

Jensen complains to no avail. Has Jared basically spinning him around on his cock and gets his knees folded underneath himself and that doesn’t fucking help his breathing, fuck no, but, Jesus, the angle, that’s—

Jared’s croaked, “Let me,” and he’s got both hands on Jensen’s hips and just pulls him back while he pushes forward, and, oh, oh fuck no, no no no—

“I—I—”

“’S okay,” grunted, distant, “me too.”

Jensen comes so fucking hard it hurts. More seizing than anything else and he can’t go anywhere, not with Jared fucking banging him out while holding him down like he’s truly nothing but a lithe little O, just a receptive for Jared’s alpha cock. Jensen’s body milks at him so involuntarily, so fucking tight he feels it in his fucking teeth and he can’t breathe, not for a hot minute and once he can he sobs, loud and shattering, and on the next handful of strokes there’s definitely Jared’s knot happening. Jensen can feel it almost-breaching him again and again and his hands fly to Jared’s arms, his wrists, to hold on or push off and he can’t, and maybe he says, “Jared,” but Jared’s quiet, comes to a sudden halt and just holds himself deep, so deep Jensen’s got to wonder if this is even healthy anymore.

He slurs, “Holy shit,” because, Jesus, he can feel it.

Not the gushes and gushes of come per se, no, but—Jared’s cock, straining, jumping against the tight constraints of his guts. The idea that, yeah, Jared’s loading him up, the sheer amount and heat of it, it’s, it’s.

Jared takes one hand off Jensen’s body and Jensen wants to complain, at first, before he realizes he’s clamping it behind his knot. So he can keep going. Can keep coming.

Delirious, “Jesus,” and, “Jay, enough, I need a, a fucking second, shit…”

Surprised, “You came?”

“Yeah? What do you think I’ve—Jesus FUCKING, s-slow, _slow_ …!”

“Sorry, sorry—wait, I got you, here; sorry…”

Jared maneuvers them onto their sides, big spoons him with his cock still tucked deep because Jensen’s too sore, says Jensen, just don’t fucking move, please, for the love of God.

Jared’s got both arms snug around him. Cuddles up and Jensen feels him slowly but surely going soft inside his ass. He waits it out, holds onto Jared’s arms with his chin tucked and his head very, embarrassingly pink-feeling.

“’S gonna leak all fucking weekend, won’t it,” and Jared groans, “Fucking hope so.”

Kisses Jensen’s neck, his scent glands.

Jensen says, “Fuck, we’re gonna ruin your bed,” and Jared tells him, “Don’t worry about it.”

Jared rolls his hips; and Jensen gasps for the overstimulation and pain but mainly for the warm gush of come seeping out next to the (still impressive) swell of Jared’s (basically) limp cock.

Mortified, “Fuck,” but Jared just keeps kissing him, marking him.

Once Jared’s apparently satisfied and his dick fully slipped from Jensen’s ass, he just hovers and looks down at Jensen’s face, and Jensen looks back. Tired, and double vision all the way, but—it’s something.

Jared asks him, “Did you like that?”

Jensen huffs, nods. Rubs his knuckles along Jared’s jawline, the aggressive stubble on his chin.

“Me too.”

Another kiss. Not dirty, just…tender. One hand to the center of Jensen’s sweaty chest, just holding it there, keeping it there.

Oh, this weekend is gonna kill him.

~

As Jared wakes him up by pushing his cock up his ass with the morning still not fully unfolded (judging by the light situation), Jensen realizes he might have blacked out in Jared’s bed.

Gritted, “Fuck,” and the goosebumps are immediate, and Jared just hums, low and sweet, and buries himself even deeper. Sucks a kiss into the side of Jensen’s neck and mutters, “Mornin’,” and, holy shit, morning indeed, huh.

Fuck, Jensen’s fucking _sore_. “Fuck, Jay, I, I can’t—”

“Just for a minute. Almost there.”

And, yeah, true—takes just a few wet thrusts until the alpha groans, heavy and sleep-thick and he adds to the mess Jensen _didn’t_ already leak all over the bed, buried deep and safe and, yeah, fuck, the fucking cage is coming _so_ off.

In the shower, Jared gives him two fingers. While he kneels and fumbles with the cage and Jensen’s fucking feverish with it, thrums too deep and it’s too early for this kinda shit, he didn’t even have his fucking coffee yet.

The metal holding his cock small clatters to the bottom of the tub with a satisfying racket, and Jensen’s just about ready to come out of his fucking skin as Jared immediately sucks him into his mouth. Jensen barks and gets one hand into Jared’s hair and tugs him close and curses, “Shit, oh fucking shit,” and Jared adds a third to his ass, and, yeah. Jensen needs some fucking coffee right the fuck now.

“You smell so fucking good.”

Jensen warns, “Jared,” with the guy already plastered to his back again, indifferent to Jensen handling piping hot drinks right now. Didn’t even bother to put clothes on or anything and his hair is still cold and drippy as he buries his face in the crook of Jensen’s neck, scents and marks him and breathes him in like he’s put a baby in him and knows it. “Dude, ten minutes. You can wait ten fucking minutes, right?”

Mumbled, “Think I’m in a bad way,” and Jensen sighs, annoyed.

“S’called a rut, idiot.”

And, yeah. Had announced itself very subtly these past few days but last night must have knocked that ball right out of the fucking park. Jared’s hard and leaking into the soft sleep shirt Jensen somehow managed to put on himself and Jensen’s biology reacts to that, of course it does. Rears him up but God no please just let him have this caffeine first, for God’s fucking sake.

Jared looks heartbreakingly young, seated at their little breakfast nook, the little bar table and stool and his face is all pink and his ears stick out of the wet tangle that is his hair, and he sips from his Bugs Bunny mug only because Jensen told him to.

Jensen squints. “You good?” and Jared nods like he’s on drugs. “Yeah?”

Calm, “Yeah,” baby-blink of eyes. “I’m just real happy right now. I dunno.”

Jensen reminds, “Rut.”

“Not just the rut, man, c’mon, stop being such a dick about it, you know what I fucking mean…”

“No, man: your ruts _always_ turn you into such a fucking pup, so would you shut the fuck up, please?” And Jared’s starting to frown and open his mouth so Jensen adds, “Let’s talk this out once you’re clear again, okay?”

Jared nods, finally. Lets Jensen grunt approvingly, down more well-needed coffee.

They go to Jensen’s room, after, on Jared’s request.

Jared’s extra-tender. Hormones fucking him up, and he’s so hard his cock is all purple with blood.

Slurred, “Can you fuck me?” with his hands roaming Jensen’s face, over Jensen’s still-clothed back. “Please?”

Jensen prompts, “You sure?” and gets a hand on the painful swell of Jared’s cock; even his knot is on the verge of popping, pulses steady and warm and Jared cringes like it hurts.

Has his eyes closed and murmurs, “Yeah,” and plucks Jensen’s hand off his dick, makes him reach around and get at his ass instead. “Fuck, please.”

Up against Jared’s chin and, “Yeah?” and Jensen watches him closely as he rubs him out, tests the waters—Jared is as tight as he could ever be, and his expression edges on pain rather than pleasure, absolutely. “’S not gonna help your rut, is it?” and Jared tosses his head, all conflicted and stubborn and he growls, now, irritated and cute and Jensen can’t help but smile, tease along the alpha’s gash, tailbone to taint and back.

“No, jus’…I want it. You. Here.”

“Where?”

“My ass.”

“Want what in your ass, alpha?”

“Your fucking cock you fucking bitch; dude, you fucking asshole…”

Jared’s curses die off with his displeased grunt. With Jensen forcing one finger up into the too-tight clutch of his ass.

Small, “Fuck,” and Jensen croons, “Yeah, pretty much,” and kisses up the hot column of Jared’s throat. Fuck, he feels feral. Might kick into a rut of his own if this truly ends up happening. Why’s nobody talking about how mounting another alpha throws your instincts into fucking overload?

Jared’s body is—fighting. Contradicts what he says with his cock even harder and wetter by the second and God Jensen can smell how bad he needs it—to come again, ideally buried somewhere deep and soft and pink. Has his hands on Jensen like he’s an inch away from pushing him off, forcing him to the ground instead, the bed, anywhere—his teeth all gritted and tense and his cock throbs idly, ignored, in the tiny space between their bodies, but he stays put, lets Jensen hurt him this sweet.

Jensen tells him, “On the bed,” and Jared moves like there’s sand in his joints, and he drops to hands and knees immediately, without being told to, and he’s careful not to mess up Jensen’s tidy bed immediately, so careful with his huge hands. Sweating, already, and Jensen drops to his knees and runs one hand over his ass, the back of his thigh.

Hears himself say, “Sweet thing,” and flicks his tongue over Jared’s asshole, and he swears he can feel him cringing all over.

Jensen leans truly in, then. Just like Jared did it to him a while back; one hand on his ass and the other closing around his balls, thumb tucked up against his taint and he just licks at him, wet and soft to ease him into it.

Jared eventually drops his head. Murmurs, “Fuck,” and Jensen hums into his ass, suckles at him like a plea.

“C’mon, relax. You want this, right?”

Jared grits, “Uh-huh,” and Jensen feels him tilting his hips out like he’s trying, but his hole isn’t relaxing at all so Jensen wrangles his tongue up there, licks him soft from the inside and Jared sighs, then, quiet and pitched and his back is arched and his shoulder blades stick out.

Jensen squeezes his hand that cradles Jared’s balls. “So fucking full.” Hears him groaning and chuckles because he’s an ass like that. Pushes his sweatpants down to get his dick out and strokes it while he pointedly ignores Jared’s. “Bet you wanna come so bad right now. Just shove it down my throat and get it over with.” Jared growls. “Yeah, I know. But you’re not gonna do that, will you? Just gonna lie back and let me have you like a good fucking slut.”

Jared warns, “Jensen,” and Jensen laughs.

“Want me to tie you to the fucking bed, huh?” and it’s a joke, it was, until it leaves his mouth and he thinks HUH and Jared fucking reels and he shy-babbles, “There’s, I, I think there’s a pair of cuffs, maybe…?”

And hell yeah, abso-fucking-lutely.

Jensen’s nearly tripping over his own feet. Gets lube and one of those stupid cock rings and, yeah, that fucking pair of handcuffs with baby pink fuzz on it. They’re ridiculous and cliché but Jensen’s weirdly into it right now, imagining them on Jared, huge tanned bulky Jared, and he’s probably used them for a show before and God Jensen might get over himself and ask him for the footage, later, but—later.

Back in his room, Jared’s already positioned himself—face down, arms stretched out long, gripping the bars of the bedframe; his ass up high in the air.

Jesus.

“On your—no, on your back; lemme see your face. Yeah, like that,” and Jared’s fucking wrecked, his face all red and worried and tight and Jensen’s gonna make him cry, isn’t he? “Fuck, this is hot,” and Jared cringes a little more for that, flutters his lashes for the decisive click of the cuffs Jensen snaps around his wrists.

All done, Jensen runs his hands down Jared’s chest—is straddling his stomach right now, and if Jared wanted, he could throw him off. Buck him off like a bull, an unruly horse, but he’s not gonna, and Jensen’s cock twitches wet with it.

“Fuck. If they could see you like this, right now, huh? Your fans,” croons Jensen, and it’s easy to push his thumb into Jared’s mouth, press down on his tongue and make him open up for him. Gags, embarrassed, as his mouth visibly floods with saliva and Jensen massages into the back of his throat, and in his peripheral Jensen sees those fingers twitching, he does. “All laid out like this, all needy and wet? But it’s only me right now, isn’t it. Just you and me, big boy.”

Jared makes a heart-break sound, deep down. Jensen gets his free hand around his own cock to tease himself, take off the worst edge. This is gonna take a while.

“I could just keep you here. Come in your ass over and over and not touch your cock for a second. Until you beg me to, and maybe not even then…!” Jensen laughs for the look on Jared’s face—the sheer want and horror mixing, considering. “Fuck, gonna make me hit my own rut if you keep looking at me like that.” And that’s true. They both can smell it.

Jared’s not fighting him, not an inch, as Jensen finally kneels his way down. Spreads his legs easy, even if still tense, and crunches his abs so Jensen can fold him in the middle, can tilt his hips so he can rub the wet head of his cock into his crack. Can smear it over the unbroken clutch of his hole and grumble, “Fuck,” and if Jensen had any less control, he’d just get in there. Has a feeling that Jared would let him despite all better knowledge.

Coarse, “Please,” and Jensen tuts at him, slaps his cock down over Jared’s hole a couple of times, full and wet.

It looks—impossible. Jensen’s not any less of an alpha than Jared, after all, and now that the cage has come off, it’s…well, it can’t technically be bigger than before, he figures, but just seeing it all hard again after several days, it’s… Let’s say he’s pretty fucking proud.

Jensen considers, “Gotta work you open some more, first,” and Jared exhales all sharp and thin at the nasty squirt of lube Jensen slicks his fingers with; attempts to inhale as Jensen gives him two right away and blinks heavy when Jensen has to retort to one. “Like a goddamn vice, shit.”

“A little up.”

“What?”

Jared repeats, “Slightly up,” and Jensen frowns, confused, before he crooks his finger like he’s being told to and Jared shivers, then, groans, “Right there,” and Jensen swallows, and pumps his finger accordingly.

Steady and deep and Jared slurs, “Fuck,” kinda broken and pretty fucking hot, like it hurts and he doesn’t want it but at the same time it’s so so good, and his cock leaks more clear strings of precome over his happy trail, into his navel, and Jensen gawps and keeps his efforts up.

Adds another as soon as he feels the pressure decreasing, and Jared flinches so sweet.

Jensen asks, “Good?” just to hear him croak his, “Yes, fuck,” and Jensen gets a hand around those balls, the base of Jared’s cock. The tension is immediate and crushing and Jared’s legs snap up, away, like he’s being burnt, and he whimpers because it probably hurts for real, because the way his cock throbs and flushes just can’t be comfortable anymore.

“You’d blow if I touched it right now, yeah?” and Jared nods in honest tears. Jensen scoffs, gives him three. “Too bad. ’Cause I won’t.”

Tossed head, wrecked voice. “Don’t want you to.”

“Oh, I know, I know. Don’t need a cage on you, do you?” and Jensen’s forcing into him all the way down to his knuckles and Jared’s insides clutch down on him, suck him in so hard there can’t be much circulation happening anymore, and, shit, his cock’s gonna go in there, next.

What if this would have happened five years ago? One of those trips and Jensen usually wakes with morning wood, had woken up grinding it against Jared’s ass on more mornings than he hadn’t, but that had been accidents and he hadn’t meant to, just pure instinct and Jared had just been— _there_ , and never mentioned it, probably didn’t even notice it. Jared all lanky and goofy and trying too hard to fit in, please everyone, and he didn’t used to be as big as he is now—would he have taken it then, too? Let Jensen force into him like this?

“Fuck,” and Jensen grinds him out a last time, scissors his fingers as wide as they will go but it’s not much, and it’s gonna be tight as hell, and he won’t fucking last long.

Again, Jared’s, “Please,” even though he won’t possibly get off like this, not in a rut with his dick fucking purple and weeping and he nearly comes off the bed when Jensen pulls his hand back out of him, fastens the plastic ring right below the threat of his knot and he barks, “Ah!” tight and hurt and Jensen lines himself up and bulls the head inside, and, it all just, it.

“Fuck,” teeth against Jared’s lip, tongue; whimpers.

Halfway and then all the way, and Jared kicks without meaning to and gasps and says, “Sorry, sorry,” and Jensen growls like he’s about to murder something, someone, and his cock throbs full and wet and deep, sheathed so fucking narrow and he grinds them together, hard, hard enough that it forces the little breath Jared’s kept for himself out of his mouth, right against Jensen’s teeth.

They wrestle Jared’s legs over Jensen’s shoulders, and it’s a blur from there.

Jared’s compact body, folded and neat and Jensen pumps his cock inside of it, into the hot suck of his ass and _God it’s good_ , it’s all he ever wanted and needed and his instincts hiss _yes_ and his balls draw up tight and his vision is black and static behind his closed lids and he eats at Jared’s wet-wet mouth, the slob of his drool and his fever-swollen tongue and the scent is insane, reeks and makes all his hairs stand on end and he growls, danger and threat and blood.

That one choked-off gush of Jared’s come is nearly enough to make Jensen forget himself and work his knot up his ass. Almost.

Holds himself just-so, though, panting open-mouthed and clenched head to toe, emptying deep inside the alpha underneath himself and he grinds his knot up against him, hard, insistent, like maybe he can still make this work, all the while Jared’s reduced to weak, full sobs, exposed and helpless and his cock blurts out another involuntary dribble of his not-quite-there orgasm and fuck he goes so fucking tight when he does that, and Jensen’s fucking seeing God right now.

Grits, “Come on, come fucking _on_ ,” and strokes a loose fist over the huge wet pulse of Jared’s cock and Jared wails, tries to fight him off again but Jensen stays right where he fucking is, buried and powerful and despite the cock ring that Jensen entirely forgot about, Jared unloads loud and sobbing all over his stomach, his chest.

Even with omegas during the peak of their heat, it never was like this. Never felt like—this.

Finally, “Fuck, sorry,” when Jared won’t stop seizing, won’t stop coming, not with the cock ring emulating a tie, and it can barely even be snapped open and off with how engorged all of Jared is right now, how fucking sore and pulsing. “Fuck, you okay?”

All choppy with his sobs, Jared still manages to complain, “I t-t-told you not to t-touch,” but can’t do much about Jensen wiping the snot and tears and drool and sweat off his face with his flat hand.

“Can I pull out? Need me to untie you?” but Jared shakes his head, frantic and still shaking, and so Jensen groans, “Shit, man, I’m sorry,” and settles in, down on his elbows, and just holds him, blankets him. Has those mile-long legs around his waist, now, and just catches his breath like this. Breathes close to Jared’s scent glands, the bitter-sweet aftermath of his in-rut orgasm. So fucking potent Jensen’s shivering with it. So fucking sticky between their stomachs.

Jared eventually nudges his face against Jensen’s neck. Rubs it there like a cat, marking him again, marking _himself_. Jensen plants a kiss behind his ear, heaves himself high enough that they can kiss again.

“Fucking God.”

“Uh-huh.” Jensen rubs their cheeks together. Kisses the shell of Jared’s still-pink ear. “Fuck, you broke my dick. You just…broke it.”

Jared gives a faint laugh. “Uh, I think mine…imploded.”

“Fuck, sorry.”

“I’ll live.”

“You better. I’m still inside you.”

“Let me off, now?” and Jared weakly moves his arms, makes the cuffs jingle against the metal of the bed frame. Jensen does, of course. Gets those arms wrapped around him in return, allows Jared to roll them to their sides, still mostly inside and god he can feel it gushing in there, slicking Jared up so good.

Gasps, because he did _not_ fucking expect Jared’s hand to dive right down to his ass and slip two fucking fingers inside of him.

Jared hums, all pleased, and keeps sucking on Jensen’s lip.

Slurred, “Five minutes?” and Jensen closes his eyes, and sighs, and agrees.

~

The only reason Jensen peers at Jared’s watch is the underlying, nagging pain in his stomach. And, yeah, four PM. They haven’t eaten yet.

Jensen groans. The handcuffs chime as he shifts.

Jared grunts. Pushes his face deeper into the mattress, into the convenient space below Jensen’s armpit. The blinds are still pulled shut. As the day comes and goes, Jensen’s room grows darker.

“Jay… Hey.”

Muffled, “What.”

“’M starving.”

“Again?”

“No, asshole. _Food_.”

“Huh.” Jared raises his head. Disoriented and frowning, squinting, he blinks at Jensen, the room. Knuckles at his eyes and yawns. “Fuck, what time is it?”

“Untie-me o clock.”

Jensen wriggles his arms with weak emphasis and gets what he wants. Jared kisses the sore spots on his wrists. Apologizes, the fool, and Jensen waves him off before any of their dicks can regain control of their brains.

Climbing out of bed ends in Jensen nearly falling to his face; the doorframe saves him and he assures, “I’m good,” over his shoulder, and uhm, that’s not exactly true, but he can’t care.

Bathroom. Bathroom, yeah.

God, he’s sore all over. Bites and hazy memories of them roughhousing and of course, Jared mounting him over and over has Jensen’s rut stirring, flaring underneath the surface. He wipes his hand across his face, groans. Fuck, he underestimated this.

By the time he’s nearly clean once more, his cock is ready to go again as well. Stands proud and throbbing and Jensen ignores it, can’t; smells Jared through the wall and door and can smell his dick, too. Braces himself on the sink and huffs, exhausted, dizzy. Food. Yeah. Food. Water.

Eventually, Jared joins him in the kitchen. Keeps his careful distance and still smells like Jensen’s ass and that probably should be way more revolting than it apparently is.

Jensen hands him the bottle of water, wipes at his bitten-to-shit mouth. Jared gladly accepts and drinks endlessly.

Cereal. Milk.

Jared makes a grabby hand and Jensen hands him the milk, why not, and hisses a sharp, “Dude,” upon him just drinking straight from the jug. “Nasty. I know where that mouth has been, y’know.”

Jared chortles for that. Molds himself to Jensen’s back, drops his head to Jensen’s shoulder. Curls his free arm around him and hums, pleased, while Jensen’s in a hurry to shovel at least _some_ food into his mouth before his interest in anything but his rut ceases entirely.

Mumbles, “You gotta eat sum, man,” and feels Jared shaking his head. “Yeah, you do. C’mon, just a lil’ something.”

Jared puts the milk down on the counter before he fully steps behind Jensen, and Jensen faintly thinks to brace himself. Slaps his free hand down on the countertop and groans, full and deep, while Jared just thumbs his cock back inside him. Still slick enough to work, thank God, and Jensen thinks he should probably be chewing the mouthful of cereal more thoroughly but all he can focus on are Jared’s huge hands pulling him back on his cock, impaling him easy and steady, and Jensen comes down on one elbow and uses the other hand to grab at Jared’s arm. Bends at the hips as far as he can, wedged between Jared and the kitchen counter, and he hasn’t even swallowed by the time Jared begins to fuck him.

Choked-off, “Fuck,” and, “I’m sore,” but Jared just grunts, and Jensen doesn’t fight him further.

Just lets him slap into him, use him up like earlier, all day. Keeps his eyes closed and grits his teeth and tosses his head, still death-gripping Jared’s arm, digging his fingers in with force.

His cock swings free between his legs. Bumps against his thigh and the counter in time with Jared’s thrusts. Jared hadn’t touched it the last several times or so, too lost in his own need, and Jensen’s not mad, but. He could touch himself right now but doesn’t. Chooses not to and groans, raw, and finally lets go of Jared to put both hands on the counter instead, gains enough leverage to push back into Jared’s movements.

Doesn’t take long for Jared to mutter, “Knot,” and yeah, Jensen can tell. Just lets him ride it out, grind it up against his ass and shudders with the too-deep invasion, the pain, and no matter how deep in they’ve been so far they didn’t even attempt to knot each other, and Jensen’s not even sure how they’re fucking doing that. Feels Jared filling him up all over again, how he pants and moans into the back of his neck and lets his teeth graze the marks he’s left here before. Jensen finally breaks and wraps a hand around himself; jerks himself, fast and hard, and Jared’s not quite done coming by the time Jensen finally follows him, seizes and groans and shoots against the drawer front, all over his hand. Feels and scents and hears Jared reacting to it, to the new-old clench of Jensen’s ass around him and the smell of his come. Sinks his mouth over one of the already-there marks and bears down, and Jensen sobs, “Fuck,” and shudders out another gush, trembles with his knees dangerously weak.

“Jared, fuck…”

“I’d claim you,” he hears, babbled nonsense traveling up his shoulder, his scent gland, his hair. “Claim you right here right now, put a fucking baby in you. Know I would.”

And Jensen croaks, “Yeah,” and swallows, and Jared’s mouth is too far away to kiss.

On the couch, Jared’s on his back with his eyes and hands all over Jensen and looks close to tears with his tender, “Fuck, baby,” for Jensen seating himself on his cock, just sinking down on it like this is natural, like his thighs aren’t shaking with the strain. As if either of them can keep their eyes truly open anymore. “So beautiful like that. All mine. Yeah?”

Jensen nods heedlessly, one of Jared’s fat thumbs tucked into the corner of his mouth and then pushing inside; he sucks on it in instinct while he lifts and drops his hips, knocks Jared’s cock so deep up into his guts it manages to hurt again, to open up space Jensen didn’t even know he had. Sobs, sweet, with his hands splayed on Jared’s solid stomach, for the rough drag of Jared’s dry hand on his oversensitive cock jerking him off, making him squirm.

“C’mon, c’mon. Yeah,” gasped and dreaming. Fucked-out expression and loose tongue. Jared manages to get one foot on the couch somehow and helps out, bangs his hips upwards to meet Jensen’s choppy ride and makes him wail, makes him shed a couple of honest tears for the pain, for the overwhelm.

Makes him stammer, “I can’t, I can’t,” but he can, and he will.

The ensuing orgasm nearly takes him out for good. Has him locking and spasming so hard he would have taken both of them off the couch if Jared’s reflexes had been any less than what they thankfully are. He shouts because it won’t stop, won’t stop spiraling him in and out and he hears, “Baby,” deep and guttural and he can’t even fight him off, can’t even tell him to stop fucking moving his goddamned hand, stop grinding his hips in and in and _in_.

It’s a blur, after. Jensen wakes in Jared’s bed, curled up and with his softening cock slipping from Jared’s ass. He blinks, confused, dazed. Finds and tugs Jared’s wrist to read his watch. Groans, tosses it back where he found it.

Again, “Jesus,” and he’s been here, hasn’t he.

Early night, late evening. The lone light on Jared’s desk was turned on maybe in a clearer moment of them stumbling in here.

Jared’s sleeping so deeply he’s not even snoring.

Jensen flattens himself out on his back, takes a deep breath. Closes his eyes after blinking at the ceiling for a moment and just lies there, now. One arm caught/curled underneath Jared, the other on his chest, comforting. Their ruts don’t seem as prominent anymore, no longer dominate the air. Jensen’s mind is blissfully empty—and clear. The inevitable rush of blood down south doesn’t come. Finally.

He should wash up. Crawl out of bed and at least…brush his teeth or sum. Go to the toilet. Something.

He turns to look over at Jared. His best friend. His…whatever this is.

The barely-there expanse and deflation of his chest, his back, in time with his soundless, deep breath. The disarray of his hair, any effort of a ponytail or bun long lost. The flushed marks where Jensen had put his teeth, where he had sucked until Jared squirmed on him (never complained).

He brushes his fingertips over them, light enough to tickle. Jared flinches in his sleep for it, tucks himself a little tighter into his fetal position, hugs Jensen’s arm to himself a little closer. Jensen chuckles, secret, for himself.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst with a very happy ending coming right at you.  
> We're almost done with this one, ah!

“What…uhm…?”

Jared sounds adorable. Jensen hears the covers shifting and flirts his eyes open, upwards. Meet Jared’s, across the swell of Jared’s ass, Jared’s shoulder.

“Oh,” simple as that. Flustered and still halfway dreaming, and Jensen hollows his cheeks with emphasis just to see him blush further.

“Keep sleepin’ if you want.”

Jared sighs. Sinks back down into his pillow and Jensen hears him sighing, deep and wet, and chuckles into his ass before he continues to fuck him with his tongue.

Jared mumbles, “Don’t deserve you,” and doesn’t even _attempt_ to hump Jensen’s face he’s so pliant.

Jensen’s not sure he can get hard again, but oh boy, his body sure tries.

Once his jaw gets too sore (and Jared gets too squirmy), he rises to his knees. Scoots up until he can straddle Jared’s ass to slide his semi between Jared’s cheeks. Keeps it tucked there with both thumbs and rolls his hips all lazy, all fascinated.

Murmurs, “Pretty,” and feels Jared lifting his hips, just a bit, just enough that if he wanted, Jensen could press inside of him. Only spit left and that wouldn’t be enough, not by a long stretch and no matter how loose Jared’s ass is for him at this point.

Jensen leans down to kiss the alpha on the pinked tip of his ear. Smells his breath, scents him, marks him. Gets a hand reaching for him, curling around the side of his neck and he hums with his eyes closed.

Doesn’t rub off on Jared anymore and just holds him. Is glad that Jared finally catches his drift and begins to crane his neck until Jensen can kiss him, rub their faces together.

Soft, “You okay?” and Jared hums his agreement, still audibly exhausted. “I’ll go grab us some grub, okay? Rest up. Be right back.”

“What time is it?”

“Does it even matter?”

“Wow.” Jared chuckles. Squints through half an eye. “That bad?”

Jensen states, “Worse,” around a worn-out smile.

~

Still warm outside. Yeah, definitely edging on summer.

Jensen’s thrown on a proper sweatshirt though and shivers despite his troubles. Ruts always leave his system slightly off. He states his order to the strict-looking lady behind the counter of their loyal ‘time is a lie and I want dumplings NOW’ Thai place with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. He helps himself to a beer while he waits. With the rut finally mostly flushed from his system, the world is particularly bright, even at this highly unchristian hour.

Jensen is deeply caught up in the bugs swarming the neon light above his head. Sips his beer in an afterthought and only then notices the couple of guys staring at him. The store is small. Just a couple feet between him and them.

He looks away. Can’t help but be reminded of how he smells, what he must look like. ‘Discreetly’ wipes his hand across his neck and yeah, fuck; the bites.

Jensen drinks more beer.

“Eighteen, twenty, twenty-three?”

“Uh, that’s me,” he says, uselessly, dumbly, and walks up to the counter. The lady stuffs a handful of napkins and fortune cookies into the already-packed plastic bag and he thanks her. She waves him off but gladly takes the money, the generous tip. He steels himself.

Can’t not hear the dismissive, “Bitch,” as he passes the group, looks pointedly forward instead of down, jaw set and all, but his scent betrays him.

He has no other choice but to nod to them, tell them, “Gentlemen,” before he exits the restaurant.

It’s not far. Only two blocks.

He can’t hear them following him. Can’t scent them. It’s okay. He’s okay.

Jensen makes it home. The relief lifts tons of weight off him and he sighs, finally, and Jared’s little, “Hey,” takes a swift concerned note upon him scenting Jensen’s stress. “Hey, you okay? Did something happen?”

“No. Here, c’mon, let’s eat.”

Jared narrows his eyes but accepts. Tells him, “Okay,” and doesn’t push it, and Jensen likes him for shit like that. That Jared doesn’t persist. Doesn’t hold grudges.

It’s whatever o clock. Jensen doesn’t even care anymore. They could as well be twenty again, young and dumb and without a regular sleep schedule.

Having finished first, he watches Jared eating with his entire attention on the episode of Avatar they somehow ended up on. Stuffs his face too-slow, absently, dressed in one of his too-low cut tanks and a pair of tennis socks. And his dumb fitness watch.

Peaceful, here. With the window cracked and the TV turned down low. The irregular but calm, familiar noises from Jared, eating, and with his cheek resting on his knuckles, Jensen Ackles thinks that, wow, he hasn’t been this happy in…wow.

“Hey,” he hears himself say, “Jared?”

Jared turns to look at him, all curious, all puppy. Wipes at his mouth and asks, “Hm?” and maybe Jensen’s staring at him for a bit too long and looks a little too sentimental, because Jared’s scent shifts sweeter, too. Shy, “What?” and his dimples settle in for it.

Jensen opens his mouth.

Ends up with (after clearing his throat), “Are you gonna eat that?”

~

It’s a no-brainer, like most things seem to be these days. Just a, “Yeah, sure,” and Jared smiles, sheepish, knowingly. Always knows him. Always knew him.

There’s something inherently satisfying about watching a huge, beautiful cock slide up into something sweet and pink all slow and steady.

Said satisfaction gets a new, colorful tint once _you_ are said sweet and pink thing and a couple hundred people are watching along with you.

Jared’s aborted, adoring little, “Fuck,” and Jensen shivers, deep inside, for him bottoming out, nestling in. Shifting his hips and grinding them together, his eyes glued on the screen and not the camera; Jensen can see it on the laptop.

“Fuck. You guys see that? So fucking good for me.”

Jensen watches on-screen how Jared mouths at his neck. How his tongue slips out to phantom-lap at the sores he left somewhere underneath the mask while he palms Jensen’s ass wider for their audience. Truly pulls at him but his cock is tucked up so deep no pink has a chance to show; all skin, all sore.

“Fuck, you’re so open.”

Jared rolls his hips to show Jensen off, make him flinch. Jensen cringes, gasps. The suggestions in chat make his head spin.

He turns to kiss Jared on the mouth. Gets lapped at, eaten at. All show, all visual.

Jared asks, “You need sum?” and flicks one thumb over the hard point of Jensen’s nipple, holds his ass open with the other. Begins to work up a slow rhythm that has Jensen heating up deep, and if his arms weren’t tied and stretched out over his head, he’d use them to somehow speed this up. Hold onto Jared, the bed, anything. As is, can only lie on top the alpha, back to chest, and let him move him on the hard line of his cock.

“Yeah. Yeah, you do. I know.”

“Fuck—!”

They both watch Jared’s cock pulling out of his wrecked hole on camera. The crazy gleam of the lube in the artificially colored light, pink and pulsing and Jensen sweats, honestly, and can’t do much more than burn hot for how Jared pulls his ass wide open for the camera.

Has him gaping wide and deep and slick, like an O, painfully so if it wasn’t for his body hair, and the chat affirms his observation.

Jensen gulps his breath. Shaking abs and he feels Jared’s teeth threatening another bite despite the thick cotton of the mask, watches his eyes all dark and fixed where he pulls him wide, shares him, and, God, they hopefully can hear that amazing deep growl once Jared allows himself to sink his cock back inside that heaven.

Keeps one set of fingers tucked down there, over Jensen’s taint. Ghosts along the disappearing lip of his rim like it’s shiny new and he’s never even seen it right, and God maybe he hasn’t. Dark and hurried but for his show, he’s fucking _good_ with the lighting.

Murmured, “Yeah, man, we’ve been busy,” for someone in chat, and Jensen swallows hard for being knocked full once more, again. Fucking solid and aching and Jared locked his dick back up only for this, only for the show, babe (that shit sells like crazy, but if you don’t want it, that’s okay).

And, God, the view is…yeah, Jensen thinks he’d pay to see this, too.

Jensen watches his own lip quiver. Watches Jared teasing his nipple, flicking and plucking and circling while he talks back and forth with his fans, swivels his hips oh-so-casually like Jensen’s only here to keep him warm, occupied.

Jensen clenches up on him on purpose, just to get a response—gets it in the form of Jared shifting his ass on the bed, pinching and holding his nipple, hard.

“You guys better decide soon, he’s getting fucking antsy over here.”

Turns out porn fucking is substantially different from actual fucking. Jared, of course, does his best to make the transition easy for Jensen, but Jensen’s beyond relieved that a) his dick doesn’t have to perform and that b) most of his face is hidden behind a thick black ski mask. No idea how Jared can keep it up that long outside of a rut. It’s magic. Jensen’s boy is pure magic.

Not boring, all of this, of course, no, just—takes real fucking long. Which can be hot ( _is_ hot), but Jensen starts to comprehend that yeah, this is a _job_. Jared running his mouth all dirty and professional, knows just how far he can go and wants to go. Makes sure to rearrange the cameras whenever they switch positions, each POV dirtier, better-worse.

Jensen ends up getting loaded up belly-down. Gets his trembling thighs parted wide so Jared can get in there all hand-held, can croon more obscenities while he pulls at him, thumbs his come back inside his ass once it gives him the chance to.

Decides, proudly, “Just how it’s supposed to be,” and Jensen sighs into the bed, fucking _out_ of it.

After the shower and after Jared bringing home the not-so-metaphorical bacon for the latest of lunches, Jensen’s slurping noodles as his phone gives off a faint notification sound.

“Just sent your share,” explains Jared around his own mouthful. Adds with an audible wink, “Go buy yourself something nice,” and Jensen’s too busy fishing for his phone and then too busy being shocked to tell him to go fuck himself.

“That’s—” He looks up at Jared, back at his phone. Back at Jared. “We only—that only was, what, an hour?”

Jared says, “Uh-huh,” and takes a long sip from his water bottle.

Jensen slouches deeper into the couch. Gawps at his phone, still.

“It’s really not that much.”

“It’s _enough_ , dude.” Jensen shakes his head, finally. Puts the damn phone away. Shakes his head again, picks his food back up; jokes, “We do that a couple more times and I can fucking _retire_.”

Jared warns, “Hey,” and, “it’s a tough business. Don’t be a dick.”

Jensen apologizes.

“Took a couple years to build up my audience. You don’t just whip it out and get paid, y’know.”

“I said I’m _sorry_ , man. I didn’t think before I opened my mouth.” Then, easier, “And I kinda got the idea you consider that one of my better qualities,” and that finally pulls the smile back onto Jared’s face. Jensen joins in on it.

The evening comes and goes. Leaves for the night, and Jensen finds himself half-comatose with Jared napping on his chest. Guests usually make fun of how big their couch is but with the two of them piled on top of each other, it’s still too small.

Jensen flips through TV series, through movies. Doesn’t even exactly care and ends up selecting a classic he never came around to watch. Something gritty and western, and he pays more attention to his own fingers combing through Jared’s hair than to the screen.

The huge alpha on top of Jensen has to detangle himself eventually for a bathroom break. Jensen flinches upon a hand brushing along his cheek, the faint, “Hey,” from somewhere above him. Squints, blinks, cat-stretches. “You look beat. Bed?”

“Prolly should, yeah.” Yawn. “What about you?”

“Some of my guys are online, so I’ll do another round of gaming, I think.”

“H’okay.”

“I’ll lock up. Brush those teeth.”

“Yeah, _Mom_.”

“Night.”

“Night.”

It’s not weird to return to his room by himself. Not until Jensen lied down, cuddled up, closed his eyes.

Until he realizes there is no huge guy an arm’s length away, breathing funny. That his bed smells like Jared even though they changed the sheets. Seeped all the way to the mattress, some of it, and Jensen sighs through his nose. Curls deeper, warmer.

~

The beta cashier raises their eyebrow at a pink-cheeked Jensen Ackles, slightly distraught, slightly about to be late.

“That’ll be three ninety-nine, sir.”

Jensen peels out four bills and slaps them onto the counter, grabs the little pot of makeup. “Keep the change.”

“Rough weekend?”

Jensen warns, “Watch it,” but leaves behind a very cheeky teenager.

Grumbles about the goddamn youth of today and slathers some just-opaque-enough color while he crouches weird in front of someone’s car’s side-view mirror to get to see what the hell he’s even doing. It works. Kinda. Not that his scent isn’t giving him away but at least from afar, people don’t get to judge him.

Matt just says, “Oh,” and when Jensen returns from his lunch, one single frosted cupcake waits for him on his desk. Jensen glares daggers while Matt ignores him and ends up eating the thing. Of course he ends up eating the thing.

He barks, “What?!” at the umpteenth person tapping his shoulder today, but Gen just looks back at him all offended, and Jensen shrinks. Rightfully so.

He ends up joining her on an ‘off-site meeting’ which turns out to be taking place at her fave coffee shop just down the road. With just her and him present.

Genevieve asks, “So, how was it?” after taking a sip from her iced Americano, between flipping her hair back over her shoulder and getting her phone out.

Jensen inquires, “What?” before he remembers, before she can even _look_ at him like he’s gotten his brains fucked out over the course of the weekend. Says, “Oh,” and, “Uh,” because, well, shit, maybe he _has_ lost a few too many brain cells indeed. “Good, I guess.”

Her well-groomed eyebrow raises, now. “You ‘guess’?”

“Pretty good,” grumbles Jensen. Picks up his black no-nothing-no-bullshit cup o’ joe and blows some of its piping heat away before he nips, burns his mouth anyway. “Awesome, okay? You happy? Great. It was great.”

“Life-changing?”

“Shut up.”

Gen nods, knowingly. “He’s big.”

“So big. Annoyingly so.”

“He still so clingy during his ruts, or?”

He tells her, “Oh yeah,” and she nods, compassionately, sipping.

“I didn’t know you’d be into that kinda thing. Big guys, I mean.”

“I’ve dated big guys before.”

“You know what I mean,” and they lock eyes for a second before Jensen’s dip back and away again.

Gen plays with her phone some more.

“I’m, uh. Freaking out.”

“Oh, you don’t say,” without her even looking up, and he glares, now, at the petite little omega who then finally puts her phone away, both hands underneath her chin. She blinks at him. “What do you need, babe? Spit it out.”

“I don’t—hell. I don’t know what I fucking need, man. I’m losing it.”

“Is this about the commitment? Or the alpha thing? Or—?”

He blurts a simple, “Yeah,” and his friend sighs at him, pinches at her pretty nose for him. “Don’t sigh at me. This is _bad_ , Cortese.”

“Sorry. It’s just that you’re so cute when you’re desperate.”

“It’s so freaking weird, like—are we still friends? Is this something serious? I’m, this—I mean, I like him, obviously, and I think he likes me too, but—”

Dry, “Oh, you think?”

but Jensen keeps talking on, “—but, like _that_? Is this weird? It’s crazy, right?”

“The claim thing?”

“ _Yes_ , the claim thing, Gen, the fucking claim fucking _thing_ ; he ever said that to YOU?”

“Not even my fiancée says that to me,” she grumbles, and Jensen feels only a tiny sting for that. Has the omega reaching out for his hand across the tiny table and telling him, “Baby,” and, “Jen,” and he lets her pet at his hand and squeeze his fingers and he squeezes back. “It’s gonna be fine, okay? You’re always like that, remember? It’s gonna pass. It’s gonna be okay.”

“Yeah, but this is _Jared_ ,” he reminds, and her hand feels right in his own. “Not some, like—random person. We’ve got history. We—fuck, we bought a—a fucking _washing machine_ together.” Jensen lets go of Genevieve’s hand to cup both of them over his face so he can suffer in peaceful blackness. “I can’t fuck this up. I can’t.”

Hesitant, “Because of a fucking _washer_?” and she’s not impressed by his growl, absolutely not. Never was, and he’d always liked that about her. Something Adri likes about her, too, apparently.

He hears her picking up her cup, taking another sip of coffee.

“In all honesty, you two sound mated already, so I don’t really see what problem you think you have.”

If Jensen knew, things would be a hell of a lot easier. Probably. Maybe not.

He drags himself through the last stretch of the day, rides home in brooding silence. Jared doesn’t say anything until after dinner, gives a careful smile and not-asks, “You been seeing Gen?”

Jensen tells him, “Yeah, we had some coffee,” and Jared nods, polite, and takes Jensen’s plate to feed it into the dishwasher.

With his back turned: “How’s she?”

Jensen reminds, “You can ask her yourself.”

“Nah, I dunno. That’d be weird.” Jared scratches at his cheek, awkward and smiling, adorable. Always does when he’s uncomfortable. Jensen beckons him over so he can wrap an arm around his waist, press a kiss to his cheek. So easy, like this is how it’s always been.

And Jared smells like—home. Their apartment, the couch. Faint remnants of lube, his shower gel. Maybe did a show around noon, after gym. Jensen scents him, mumbles about, “I’ve been with her too and we’re dealing just fine, y’know. She’s not mad or anything.”

Jared mutters, “It’s not about that,” and, yeah, Jensen knows. Gets it, even. That’s just how Jared is. How Jared handles these things.

Jared allows being kissed on the mouth. Closes his eyes and cradles Jensen’s face.

Tells him, softly, “Your makeup’s ruined, by the way,” and Jensen shrugs, lets him thumb at the patchy remnants around his neck.

“Ruined my shirt in turn, so that’s fair.”

“I’m sorry. Should have controlled myself more.”

“Hey, I don’t blame you. ’S called a rut for a reason.” Jensen slides his hand into the darling dip just above Jared’s butt. Keeps him close, here, still nuzzling Jared’s palms, Jared’s neck. Confides, “I like it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He brings one hand up to flick at one of the inflamed-looking spots in the crook of Jared’s nape, peeking out behind the long strands of his hair. “Did you too, after all. S’only fair.”

Jared remembers, fondly, “You started it,” and Jensen smiles. Yeah. Yeah, he did.

Jensen kisses him again. Feels Jared’s lashes grazing his cheek.

Wavering, careful: “This okay?” and he feels Jared nod. Feels Jared saying,

“Yeah.”

“Are we good? Is this good?”

“Feels pretty good to me,” admits Jared, and Jensen’s senses can’t tell if it’s him or Jared being nervous. Or both. Hopefully both. “What about you? You okay?”

Jensen says, “Yeah. I’m good,” and gets that thumb brushing underneath his eye, along his cheekbone.

Sheepish, “You’ve always been a shitty liar.”

“Nah, ’s just that you’re hella good at figuring me out.” Jared laughs, dips down to kiss Jensen. Jensen adds, “Seriously, though, I’m good. I mean it.”

“Is it about me, or? The biology part of it?”

“Both, kinda.” Jensen thumbs at Jared’s hip. Utters, “Sorry, I’m bad at this,”

and Jared urges, “No, no, keep going. You’ve got it.”

Jensen sighs, pained. Gets his cheeks squished and growls, half-heartedly, and hears Jared chuckle for the weak threat.

“You’re adorable when you’re shy, you know that?”

“People keep mentioning it, yeah,” and Jensen gets his mouth kissed again, still squished to a pout. Glares before Jared lets him go, finally. “I’m—I guess I’m. I don’t wanna fuck this up. Us. And I’m freaked because, I mean—you know me. Kinda tend to fuck shit up, don’t I.”

Jensen hears, “Okay,” and falters.

“Just ‘okay’?”

“Yeah, if—if that’s what you’re scared about, that’s okay with me. I can handle that.”

Jensen says, “Huh,” and hides his face in Jared’s chest. Gets cradled and his glasses ride up against his cheeks, but he doesn’t care. Breathes, here, trying to calm himself down. Stay in control.

Jared reminds, “You’re doing the thing.”

“What thing.”

“The thing,” repeats Jared. Dances his fingers down Jensen’s arm, up his biceps and shoulder. “Where you pretend you’re done talking and hope I won’t probe any further.”

“Is it working?”

“Uhm, no. I’m afraid not.”

“Well, damn.”

“Tell me what you need, alpha. Tell me what to do. How to make this easier on you.”

“Did you mean it? When,” and Jensen lifts his face out of the safe haven of Jared’s tits for that, looks up at him and lets Jared see him, and Jared’s rightfully baffled, didn’t expect his bluff to work (if it even was one). “When, the—the claim?”

And Jared blurts, “Uhm,” and, “Yeah,” ashamed and caught and Jensen swears he feels him blushing stomach-upwards, “I, I didn’t think you—that you’d remember that, I, uh. But—yeah. Sorry, that—was out of place, but—”

“Don’t backpedal on me, Padalecki; simple yes or no, _now_.”

Jared stammers, “Yeah,” and looks genuinely scared, despite being hugged in Jensen’s arms. “Yeah, I— _yeah_.”

Jensen barrels on through that, “So you’re saying you can ask me to have your giant-ass child but you can’t ask me to be your boyfriend?” and he can’t think, and he won’t say another word, and if Jared wasn’t looking at him like he does, right now, he’d walk out the fucking door and never come back.

As is, though, and holy hell thank you, thank you God and Jesus and whoever is involved in this, Jared stammers, “Jen,” and reluctantly places his hands back on Jensen’s face, and he ducks back down to kiss him and, fucking hell, finally.

Muffled, “Ask me,” between their mouths, between Jared gaining momentum and breaking into a sweat and Jensen pulling him closer, pulling him in and in,

and Jared pants, “Go out with me,” and one of them growls, and Jensen fears it’s himself. Knows it. Can’t care.

It doesn’t matter how they make it to Jared’s room, only that they _do_.

That Jensen can push him down and climb on top of him and yank his own shirt over his head, help Jared worm his shorts down his ass. Tries kissing him through all of it and the unavoidable breaks tear at him meaner than he’d like, make his face scrunch up and he grumbles, low and primal and hurt, and if Jared wasn’t grinding the heel of his hand down over his still jeans-clad dick, he’d be wreaking mayhem right about now. Or cry. Unimaginable things.

Snarls, “Get me out,” and Jared’s quick to obey, always was, and Jensen grinds their mouths together hard enough for it to hurt, rucks Jared’s tanktop up to his chin for him and slides his hands across all that skin, across all that—his. His, isn’t it, all of this?

Spellbound, “Fuck,” and, “You’re so fucking wet,” and Jensen makes a nonsensical noise, something hopefully resembling a _yes_ , because yeah, _yes_ , all of it. Gets his cock taken care of and wraps his hand tight to return the favor, and Jared wrestles his legs free enough to part his thighs wide, wider than Jensen would have needed them and he growls, crowds in further, deeper, until their knuckles scrape against each other they’re so close.

Gulped breath, “Fuck me,” and Jensen lets their foreheads meet, breathes hard and harder for Jared wrapping his mile-long legs around him, pulling him in. “Do it, please. Please.”

Breathless, “Yeah?” and Jared nods, nods so young and frantic and Jensen knows this bed so well by now, knows where Jared’s stashed the lube for moments like this, because it’s becoming a habit—moments like this.

Jensen, sitting back on his haunches and getting his dick wet under Jared’s administration, the perfect swivel of his wrist and just the right pressure. Has to tip his head back for just a second and lets Jared take care of him right before he gathers himself, before Jared basically tips him over with how he crosses his legs and yanks him in. Huffs, surprised, but slurs, “Yeah, yeah, I got you,” and they didn’t prep Jared and it must hurt, but he’s doing it and there’s no stopping now.

Just Jared, groaning choked-off and warm, and Jensen picks up the movement of his hand in an afterthought, halfway up in there already and Jared sobs, then, pained and real and he says his name, Jensen’s name, and pulls him in, arms and legs, and Jensen’s got his mouth back on Jared’s while he forces himself up in there. Realizes only then that Jared must’ve done something beforehand, maybe on cam because lord he feels good inside, or maybe still from yesterday, he doesn’t know, can’t care, not now.

Rolls his hips and fuck, his jeans are still on. But Jared’s kissing him like they’re drowning, has him clasped so tight there’s not an inch between them, and Jensen urges, “Babe,” when he finds the space, when he manages to cup both of Jared’s tits and squeezes them, hard, too-hard, and Jared just trembles, writhes to move against him, with him, and it’s perfect. Them. Nothing but them.

Jared wrangles both of his hands between them, jerks himself hard and fast while he tugs at his balls with the other, and Jensen’s left with playing with his chest, stems his hands in there and Jared just chants, “God, _God_ ,” and they don’t last long, don’t have to.

A frenzy, all of it. Jared clenching up and biting his lip he’s shaking so hard, wet-hot spurts up his stomach and up against Jensen’s chest and Jensen leans in, packs his thrusts, bites at Jared’s stubble-rough chin while his knot works itself to fullness, and Jared barks once, sharp, and if Jensen didn’t know any better he’d feared he’s tied him on accident it’s so fucking intense.

Shakes apart, so so close. Like a thread coming undone, deep inside, and he doesn’t collapse but drapes himself willingly. Curls in and around Jared and gathers him in his arms, underneath himself, against himself, and lets them ride it out like this. Hears Jared sniffling, close-distant, and marks him further. Rubs his scent gland along Jared’s collar bone, his shirt, neck, face. Laps at Jared’s mouth, his cheek, all of it, until Jared clasps his hand around him and forces him to kiss him right. On the mouth, hungry and wet.

Jensen exhales with a shiver. On his elbows, now, and they’re a sweat-salty mess. A thumb to the wet corner of Jared’s eye, a half-assed brush over his face to get his hair out of the way. Jared sniffles again, blinks; shy. Soft.

Jared complains, “I’m gross.”

“Not more than usual.”

Jared snorts his laugh. Jensen kisses him on the nose, the mouth.

“That was…!”

Jensen agrees, “Yeah.”

“I can’t believe my boyfriend got me off in under a freaking minute.”

Jensen scoffs, “Hey, now,” before the phrasing fully hits him and he can’t do much but let Jared smirk at him, peck another kiss on his mouth.

“You’re amazing. Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Hey, are you mad at me? Your dick’s still inside of me, y’know,” and Jensen kisses that stupid mouth shut for good.


	7. Chapter 7

Mae announces, “Good for you,” and hands Jensen their drinks. “These are on me. No, you don’t get to argue on that. Shoo, back to your giant.”

Jensen does. Tells Jared, “This is getting annoying,” and Jared looks up at him from where he’s been passing time with his phone, smiles all innocent and sweet and wonders, “What?” and Jensen can’t. Just ushers, “Nothing,” and fits himself back into his seat. They clink glasses; the sound of it gets lost in the overstuffed bar.

“They give you shit?”

“Shut up.”

“You want me to have a word with them?”

“Dude, drop it.”

Jared promises, “Just joking,” with the kind of smile that tells Jensen that, yeah, it isn’t going beyond a joke because you just now decided so.

They drink, watch the crowd. It’s stuffy and Jensen regrets not getting a pitcher right away. Then again, they just wanted to slip outside for one drink (ironically: to get some fresh air). There’s some beer left in their fridge back home.

Jensen tries hard not to pay too much attention to people…well, paying attention to them. Those tiny glimpses, the retakes. He sips his beer with emphasized indifference but can’t help but get agitated, somewhere deep underneath his skin. Just strangers. Not that they’d know anything about Jared and him. About all of this, them. So many years, now. God, nearly a decade.

A hand steals itself onto Jensen’s knee, too-warm in the already-overheated bar. Jensen gives Jared a side-eye, finds him looking at him.

Too-quiet, “You okay?” under the booming music, the multitudes of chatters. Jensen nods, exhausted.

“Just tired.”

Dimples. “Sorry.”

Jensen scoffs, rubs his hand over Jared’s, still on his knee. Keeps it there, underneath the table, and he swears Jared’s scent gains another level of adoration.

Just sitting, drinking. Holding hands.

Jesus. Jensen’s in over his head.

Later, he makes Jared confess: “All the time,” and Jensen just takes that as the truth, something he’s thought about but never admitted to knowing, scenting, whatever.

Just cuddling, in Jensen’s bed. Tender and cozy and attempting to keep Jared’s stupid hair out of Jared’s stupid face is a good way to pass the time.

“Like, back when we met? I was like—wow, this guy is smoking hot, this is some fucking bullshit.”

Jensen chuckles.

“No, really. I felt like—is this supposed to mean something? Am I supposed to take something away from this? Obviously, I didn’t stand a chance against someone like that, so.”

“Obviously.”

“Ass.” Jared nudges Jensen’s shoulder. “But, yeah. I knew it wouldn’t work out so I just…immediately settled with ‘okay, we can be friends, he’s probably gonna wanna be friends with a jerk like me, that’s cool, I can do that’.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, worked out, didn’t it?”

Jensen teases, “I guess,” and runs his knuckles along Jared’s jaw. Has him turning into the movement like a cat, smiling all contended. “So—then what?”

“Hm. I just kind of…forgot?”

“‘Forgot’?”

“Yeah, like…I liked what we had, and I saw you felt the same, so why push it, you know? I’m fine just being around you.”

“Hm.” More hair-fussing. “That why you broke it off with Melissa, or?”

“No. No, honestly. That was unrelated to all—this.” Jared gestures as far as the small space between them allows, laid out on the bed on their sides as they are. “We just weren’t working out.”

“Hm.”

A short pause. Until: “When you and Gen…”

“Oh, shut it, that was ages ago, man…”

“I, uh, I was legit scared.” Jared scoffs. Jensen thumbs along his ear. “The way you two were looking at each other, I was sure that…”

“We were young, I was dumb, and I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have. Not with your ex, man, I still can’t believe I did that.”

Jared mumbles, “You two seemed great together,” and, “I dunno.”

“It never was serious, from neither side. Hey, Jared, look at me. Listen, okay?”

Jared does. Brows furrowed and all and his scent is tinted with sadness, and if they weren’t cuddled up so tight already, Jensen would pull him closer.

As is, puts all his intention into that, “Believe me,” and Jared nods, hesitant but repeatedly, lets the facts settle and hopefully take over.

Mutters, “Okay,” and Jensen holds his face to kiss him on the forehead.

Mocks, “Softie,” and Jared chortles for that, hides his face in Jensen’s chest for that.

~

Jared’s all muscle, all plain chicken breast and steamed broccoli. Always swears that eh he just wakes up like this, no big deal, he never even has to comb his hair or anything, it just does its thing on its own, but Jensen knows better. Sees him fussing and contemplating and practicing. Sees him tired and hungry and sweaty, exhausted and sighing over his food prep. The conditioners and hair masks. The tangle teezer.

Jensen puts his cam money towards the only thing he can think of investing into.

Loose ponytail and dimples, airy-distant, _“Ha ha,”_ and Jensen’s next-door, headphones on. Could hear him through the wall, maybe. Can’t imagine how he’s never caught him before. _“Sure, Fox, which one?”_

Jensen soaks up the chat. All these people flirting in one way or the other, asking, demanding, shit-posting. And Jared, on top of it all, practiced. Years, he said. Since after college? _Since_ college?

Jared exclaims, _“Shit,”_ with a wide smile, gets up to retrieve the desired item. _“Shit, you’re spoiling me, man.”_

Jensen’s been hard and mildly sweaty ever since he decided to play peeping tom. At least he’s paying.

Adds some more coins to the slowly growing pile and Jared settles back down on his chair just in time to see the notification. _“Hey, thanks, cowboy. You excited?”_

At the sight of the huge dildo in Jared’s hand, yeah, fuck, Jensen sure fucking _is_.

Jensen has to palm himself over his sweatpants while Jared settles in for good, leans back until his chair creaks a little and he gets one leg up, grants everyone a better view of his cleanly shaven, well, everything. Absurd—the size of him, clearly alpha, in contrast to the omega-like smoothness. Jensen’s mouth waters stupid. Jared mouthing at the tip of the clear-purple fake cock doesn’t help.

A teasing, _“Pretty big,”_ and Jensen throws some more money in together with another few blessed souls. Jared had fucked him this morning before work. Rough and morning-stumbling, urgent and in the dark. Made him come so hard he’d been weak-kneed all day; still kinda is. Jensen’s cock doesn’t seem to remember.

_master69  
where’s your bitch? make him watch_

Oh, lord.

Jared laughs. _“Let him rest, man. Maybe another time.”_

Cowboy76 donated $20.

_“Cowboy again? You got something to say?”_

_Cowboy76  
how bout you stop teasing_

Jared scoffs. _“Bossy.”_ But _does_ move his arm, _does_ pretend-push the toy where it belongs.

Circles, first, and croons all pretty.

Jensen swallows.

_master69  
c’mon baby call him over and make him eat that pussy  
get you all nice and wet for us_

Jared throat-laughs, _“Fuck,”_ and, fuck, yeah, hard fucking same.

The way Jared half-licks his lip. How he teases himself, gets a huge hand up to play with his nipple through the thin cotton of his tank top. The threat of the toy rubs and rubs over where Jensen knows it’ll fit with enough prep, with Jared’s unbroken motivation to wreck himself.

Pondering, _“I dunno,”_ and, finally, innocently, _“If we can get two hundred in the next five minutes? I’ll ask him.”_

Jensen gives everyone a fair head-start with a solid hundred. Will add the other if he has to but God the rush is immediate and fucking humbling. That they wanna see him. The two of them together.

Jared mocks, _“You guys are fucking thirsty,”_ and slicks his non-dildo hand, slides one finger up his ass like he truly has to work himself up to it. Hums cute and adds another, shuffles lower on his chair to make the reach more comfortable. Keeps the toy in sight, has it looming over his thigh to not let them forget for a single second while he squirms on as little as two fingers. Murmurs, _“Fuck,”_ under his breath, lost in it, and Jensen thinks he can see him crooking his fingers, making it good.

They’ve reached the goal within two minutes.

Jensen watches his boyfriend chuckle on-screen, watches him grabbing his phone, typing with one thumb and his tongue in his cheek.

Jensen’s phone lights up next to him.

He doesn’t have to read the text.

The ski mask hangs with their coats now, more open and not longer stuffed with the winter gear. Jensen grabs it, pulls it on; doesn’t knock.

Soft, “Hey,” and Jared’s eyes drop to the obvious bulge in Jensen’s sweats, and he’s still fingering himself, hasn’t missed a fucking beat.

Jensen steps over to him.

“Wow, hey,” and Jared’s reaching for him, cups him over his sweatpants and exchanges his superior smile with a moment of sheer surprise for Jensen getting his dick out, crowding in on him; but he gets with the program quick enough, wraps his lips around Jensen’s cock and moans, deep, while Jensen gathers a handful of hair to pull him in.

Spluttered breath once Jensen makes him take it deep. Barely a struggle in the man, though, and Jensen can see him continuing to work his ass.

Jensen growls.

Two hands on Jared’s head gather his hair out of his face for him. Jensen uses the makeshift handle to hold Jared in place as he pumps into his throat in slow, controlled thrusts. Makes Jared gurgle sweet and glimpses at the chat. The people are pleased.

_yax  
hell yeah fuck him_

_kylespencerxoxo56  
get that alpha pussy_

Yes and yes.

“Huh. Cute,” and Jensen nudges the toy sandwiched between Jared’s thigh and stomach. “I can help you with that.”

Jared’s scent kicks into the next gear nearly immediately. He manages to cram three fingers into his ass before Jensen lets up on him, lets him cough and take a breather while he smears his now-wet cock around his face. Buys some time. Reads the chat.

“C’mon; up you go.”

Jared stumbles like he forgotten how to walk. So fast with picking up on Jensen’s mood, so fucking versatile. Drops to all fours on his bed while Jensen hauls the camera setup closer, watches with barely-masked amazement at how efficiently he handles the equipment.

The view settles nice on the line of Jared’s body.

The fucking filming class from way back in junior year finally pays off.

Jared gives a surprised yelp for Jensen smacking his ass, once and hard, and he struggles for a beat when Jensen just settles behind him, yanks him back to thumb his cock into his ass. Gulps, wet, and flinches forward, away, but Jensen’s got him, and he whines, drops his adorable head. Lets Jensen push into him all the way, and Jensen’s fucking torn between watching the screen and the wide collapsed plane of Jared’s fucking beautiful back.

Gritted, “Fuck,” and he thrusts once, testing, and Jared’s a trembling tight mess around him, in front of him, and he’s still in his shirt; fuck. A fleeting glance towards chat and Jensen grunts, “So fucking tight, you have no fucking idea, man,” and he gives Jared a true snap of his hips then, full and deep and Jared nearly comes off the bed for it, and it’s _gotta_ fucking hurt.

But, God, Jared smells like this is the hottest thing anyone’s ever done to him.

Jensen’s dizzy with it.

“Be good, now.” Jensen forces one hand down Jared’s small of the back, reminds him to arch deep, and Jared does, not without a wet whine. Fuck, Jensen’s gonna lose it with this guy. “Yeah, good boy. Let me. There you go.”

Jared makes O noises, as far as any alpha can do that.

Muffled and deep. Pretended and yet not.

Jensen, whose head is blissfully out of the shot, watches Jared struggling on screen. Watches him writhing on Jensen’s cock, the slick flash of it pounding into him, and he’s leaning fucking _into_ it so every slap can make him shudder. Reaches back and Jensen expects him to get a hand on his cock but no, feels him closing his hand around Jensen’s wrist. Watches him making puppy-eyes at him from where his face is flushed and squished into the mattress, one wet little, “Please,” and Jensen’s in love. He fucking _is_.

Jensen doesn’t hold back; can’t. Fucks Jared hard and fast and Jared doesn’t let go of him for a second. Is a shivering mess by the time Jensen comes, loads him up; pulls out slow for effect and growls, chases the immediate spill with his thumb. Gets it back inside, has Jared gasping stupid, his cock so hard it’s stinking up the room. Groans, weak, for Jensen urging him, “C’mon, turn around. Yeah,” and being palmed open on camera, lets Jensen show him off well.

Jensen comments, “Now _that’s_ pretty,” and his own voice sounds freaking foreign to him. All low and wrecked and he is, by God. Can’t look away from the video feed of his own fingers prying Jared’s hole wider than the already-there gape of it, the deep inside-pink all swollen and raw, creamed well.

Jensen thinks he asks. And he thinks that Jared approves, yeah, oh God, and the sight of the thick fucking toy sinking into his boy’s well-fucked hole is nearly enough to make Jensen forget he just came a fucking minute ago.

The last few inches need some persuading, but Jensen’s got it. Has Jared lurching, blabbering, “Fuck, _fuck_ ,” and Jensen warns, “Don’t fucking touch it,” and he fucking hears Jared dropping his arm, just lets it flop onto the mattress and god the view, the fucking cam feed.

Jared’s limp hand, curled palm-up. The heavy line of his cock, drooling thick and plenty with nothing but the insane pressure of the toy forced up his guts. Jensen twists it, lets all those pretty fake veins rub at the alpha’s insides and he twitches adorably. Shaved bare and open and slick, he could as well be an omega. Nobody would question it.

Jared’s body struggles not to have Jensen’s load fucked out of him. Clenches desperately and Jensen smells the embarrassment, Jared’s half-hearted attempts to cup his hand underneath himself, make it stop sopping from him, and Lord, Jensen’s gonna make him lick his fucking hand asap. The clear jelly of the toy is tinted with slick and the froth of Jensen’s load, now. Jensen grinds it in, deep, for a last time.

“Suck my dick. Suck it while you get yourself off, fucking _do_ it.”

Jared scrambles; Jensen pushes down his throat around the gurgle of his moan of finally putting a hand on himself. Jensen keeps one hand on the toy, keeps it nice and deep in there and one quick check tells him the camera feed is just good enough, doesn’t give a good view of Jared sucking him off but the spotlight is clearly somewhere else, now—the flurry of his hand, the clench of his ass and taint for the toy still forcing him open and raw. The noises are excellent, just choking and wet and Jensen presses pubes-to-nose when Jared seizes with his orgasm, when he spills over his own hand and the bed and Jensen can fucking feel his ass sucking at the toy, holds it firm and steady and Jared’s hips roll, unintentional, hitched and cute and Jensen gives him a few strokes of it until he feels Jared attempting to turn away, until it’s more than enough, and, yeah, okay; okay.

“Oh, _God_ ,” broken and sweet and Jensen kisses him on the mouth once he can, wet and loud and he doesn’t care.

They end the session with Jared seated on the toy, Jensen in front of him. With Jared absently sucking him off in between answering questions, saying his goodbyes; being a doll in general.

Slurred, “Holy fucking shit,” once the camera’s off, once it’s just them again and Jensen’s not pulled the mask off yet, can’t; not with Jared’s mouth tasting like cock, like his own ass. “Fuck, you’re killing me. Entirely killing me.”

Jensen helps him lying down on his back. Eases the toy out of him, finally, just to settle right there, eat his ass until he’s hard again. Until he’s sweating all new and pulls the mask off Jensen’s head for him when he crawls up to straddle him, to settle the leaking tip of Jared’s cock right up against his hole and rock down. Allows Jared to curl both hands around his face, kiss him with everything he’s got.

Breathless, “Fuck, I love you,” and Jensen’s nearly enough of an idiot to have a cry for that one.

~

The tell-tale of Jared’s hitched breath. His rut-brain forbids all sensical language so he just grunts, unabashed and dark and Jensen groans for the new bite, harder than the ones before. Can’t interfere with his hands cuffed to the bed, of course, and even if he was free—not a good idea. Let alphas be alphas.

Drifting. “Fuck,” throaty and dry; Jensen. Jared grinds them together, hard, to make sure to work his load as deep as it will go. “Fuck, get me off. Get me off, c’mon, please—”

Thankfully, Jared’s a people pleaser even in the middle of a rut.

Wraps his hand nearly too-tight and works Jensen quick, so wet with his own precome and Jensen whimpers, tenses on the ever-hard plug of Jared’s cock up his ass and hears him stirring, hears him growling for the involuntary stimulation and that mouth wanders. Sucks on Jensen’s throat while he rolls his hips in small, strict circles, like he’s tied and claimed Jensen and ensures to make it count.

Grazes teeth down Jensen’s pec and finds a nipple to suck on, chew on, and Jensen shudders in his grip, against the metal cuffs.

“Fuck, fuck, please—!”

Jensen gets what he wants.

Sobs, hard, when Jared takes his hand off him on the first burst of his orgasm, lets his cock flail and spurt helplessly while he pumps into his ass anew, milks him from the inside and keeps working Jensen’s tits with mouth and fingers; and Jensen would punch him, do _some_ thing, for Jared biting him again while he’s still coming. While he’s ruined and clenching weird and it hurts, in a way, hurts a whole fucking lot with how hard Jared’s bearing down on him.

The air spikes with iron, but he can’t think.

Has Jared wrestling him over, onto his stomach, to renew his efforts. To pounds into Jensen hard and fast like he didn’t even come yet, and Jensen’s grateful for the mattress, for being able to bite into it and hold on, to let Jared ride his ass until he’s satisfied.

Gets plenty of that, “Sorry,” after, in the shower. Has his lips wrapped around the rock-hard line of Jared’s cock that Jared insists is sore, fuck, it’s okay, you don’t have to, oh.

One hand deliberately switches between fingering Jared’s ass and cradling his ever-full balls. Jensen’s face stings in the hot steam of the shower. Not in a rut himself, but alphas don’t need that to be irresponsibly horny anyway.

“So fucking tight when you’re in a rut, Jesus fucking Christ.”

Again, “Sorry,” and God, Jared’s clenching so hard that Jensen can barely get his finger all the way in there.

“Hands an’ knees, c’mon.”

Jared complies, against all roaring instincts. Allows Jensen to eat his ass without much complaint at all, at least not for a good while.

Babbles, “Jen,” eventually, though, of course.

Jensen is a good partner. Gets a hand on Jared’s cock and strokes him while he tongue-fucks him, has him coming again like that, plenty as ever. The shower washes that away.

Gentle, “Can I?” and Jared nods, stupid, mindlessly, ass-up on the bed. Would say yes to anything as long as Jensen says it, probably.

Groans like he’s being hurt. Is.

But, “More,” and, “so good, fuck,” so Jensen bottoms out. Rubs both hands over that ass, up that back; the pure heat underneath all that skin. “Fuck, you’re so big.”

Jensen mocks, “’S like you’re a blushin’ virgin all over again,” and feels feral with it, drifts in the thicket of Jared’s pheromones. So easy. Jared’s so taut it’s simple to push-pull him, grind him on his cock all gasp-y and irritated.

Spit-thick, “Fuck me,” and, yeah, Jensen can do that.

Jared takes him out, after. The night air does them good.

The Thai place set up a few tables outside; they eat their food here, still calm with the aftershock of…well, God knows how many hours of Jared’s rut. The guy’s got fucking _stamina_.

Jensen’s in an intimate relationship with the last few bits of his Gua Bao by the time Jared rediscovers his language.

Hears, “I never thought I’d have this.”

Jensen scoffs. “Told you some carbs won’t kill you.”

“Alpha,” and Jensen sobers for that. “Not what I meant. You know.”

And, yeah, Jensen does. Takes a dramatic sip from his iced drink just to unsettle Jared’s pretty face some more. Makes him melt, huge and hunched over their food, the too-small table in the still-warm alley.

Jensen croaks, “Yeah, I know,” and has to clear his throat halfway through it’s so tight.

Hears, “I love you so much,” and meets Jared’s eyes just in time, holds the contact while Jared keeps talking, all tender and small and honest. “I’ve loved you for so long I can’t even remember. And now we’re sitting here, out here, you an’ me, and I can’t believe how much I love you.”

Jensen can’t reply. Thankfully, Jared puts one of his hands to Jensen’s, so he can grab back. Squeeze back.

Again, smiled, “I love you,” and there’s just the stars, the streetlights, the neon signs and the soy sauce spills on Jared’s shirt, and Jensen thinks if this continues, maybe he can say it back someday soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been such a lovely story to work on and I thank y'all for the support and love it and these boys got ❤. This was so fun and soft and a nice change from my usual spiel to go almost-angst-free (heh). See you in the next one!


End file.
